Daylight's Requiem
by downtimexdamage
Summary: Something is lurking in the forests of Forks preying upon Bella, and it is frighteningly dissimilar to werewolves and vampires... exb.
1. Phone Call

This is my first _Twilight_ fanfiction. I've been toying with different plots and this is the one that I liked and worked with the most. I'd truly appreciate reviews so that I know to keep working on this and, you know, that it is possibly good. So... if you like it, let me know. If you hate it, _kindly_ let me know. If you just want to read more of it, let me know!

**Summary: **With the approach of her wedding and immortality, Bella's joy seems unlimited. Until her perception of a perfect life is shattered... and then rebuilt with tremendous beauty and love.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. But Stephenie Meyer sure does!

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**"Phone Call"**

"Is it beautiful out there, Bella?"

My eyes were transfixed through the large window in Edward's bedroom as I watched sheets of rain fall on the forest and the small mountains. It was a peaceful, unmoving scene; it almost resembled a painting. The only thing that reminded me that it was real was the beads of rain that slid down the pane and the fog of my breath on the glass.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Edward standing in the middle of the room, wearing a beige sweater with a scarlet long sleeve button up shirt underneath and brown pants. He was drying his hair with a black towel when I turned around.

"Yes, it is," I said, smiling.

Edward ran his fingers through his hair, tossing the towel aside as he walked to sit by me on the floor. I snuggled into his chest, resting between his legs with the blanket still wrapped around my shoulders. He stroked my hair and rested his chin on my head. "It's almost as beautiful as you."

I laughed and touched his nose with my finger. "Because that wasn't cliché or anything, Edward…"

"Bella, anything can be a cliché," his laugh, deep and soft, resonated through the bedroom.

"Mmm," I said with my face nuzzled into his chest. "I guess you're right…"

Edward lifted me onto his lap with my legs straddled around his waist and our faces inches apart. His skin was still slightly damp from the shower and the grey light from the weather combined to cast an ethereal glow about him, as if he didn't already have one to begin with. The red and the brown fused to together in places to create gold streaks and strands, all highlighted now. But his eyes always captured me. The warm topaz drew me into all of its peaks and valleys, always searching and always reading.

He was so beautiful. I would never be used to it.

"Where are you, love?" My mind refocused, the feel of his cold nose touching mine and his hand resting on my lower back, pressing me to him.

"I'm here," I breathed. "I was just… thinking."

Edward nudged my neck with his cheek and leaned me back on his soft carpet, the blanket smoothing my fall. He held himself over me, careful not to press all of his stone weight on me, but just enough to comfort me. Stray strands of his bronze hair brushed against my face. "I could tell. What of?"

I lifted my hands to his neck. "You, of course."

A crooked and tempting smile slipped over Edward's lips as he leaned down to my neck, running his lips over my warming skin. A cold hand traveled down my waist lightly and stopped at my hip. "Nothing else?" His chilled voice stung my ear.

I could feel Edward's legs fighting with mine to open; fighting only because he knew not to push my patience and nerves when it came to us being so close and alone. It was a battle that was wearing my endurance thin, my endurance against his temptations. Of course it was only a week until our wedding, but still…

Our wedding. Knotting my fingers in Edward's hair, I tried the best I could to rein in my thoughts about it, but his smooth skin pushed it farther away. Small glimpses of my wedding dress flickered in my head, along with my imaginings of the people attending, all watching me as I walked down the aisle.

"Wait, Edward," I gasped as his hands strayed across my stomach. "Remember…?"

"I do," he spoke against my collarbone. "I'm not violating that, am I?"

I shook my head. "No, but I wanted to remind you…"

"I keep my promises, Bella," Edward lifted his head to look at my eyes. "Haven't I always?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"This one is no exception; I will honor it, too," he spoke against my ear, pulling me closer against him. "Although you are entirely irresistible…"

A rush of blood to my face sent him into laughter as he sat up from me. He smiled at me, tracing my cheek with his cold fingers, an intense flame in set back in his eyes.

"Where is everyone else?" The words fluttered out as I tried to sustain my breathing pattern.

"Downstairs, I believe," Edward said as he ran a finger through his hair. "I'm sure Alice is locked in her room with her top secret folder of wedding plans."

I laughed, only because it was true. "How far have you gotten on your homework?"

Edward leaned back on his elbows, smiling to himself, searching the ceiling in faux thought. "I wouldn't tell you… you won't be hearing it until the ceremony."

Our "homework" was our written vows. Alice had devised the idea, thrown it out on the table during a consultation of the ceremony. Although I was silently certain that anything Edward said in his vows was nothing new, I agreed with the idea and let it set in motion.

"I'm not asking you to show me them," I said, stretching my hands over my head. "I'm just asking how far you are in writing them."

Edward shook his head. "I won't tell you."

I sat up and leaned my back against the cold pane. "Fine."

"Oh, don't be cruel!" Edward cried, tapping my knee with his finger. "I just know you well enough to know that if I told you something as miniscule as my progress, you'd eventually have me pulling out my work so far."

"You're probably right," I admitted.

"No, I'm not _probably _right," he said, sitting up again. "I _know_ I'm right, Bella love."

I smiled, stretching, and flung myself around his neck. Edward fell back and caught me in his arms. He watched me, expectantly amused. "I'm hungry…"

"I imagine you are," Edward said, sitting me on his lap and scooping me into his arms. "It's nearly five in the evening and you've hardly eaten anything."

"Keeping up with a family of vampires is difficult," I poked his cold nose and watched him playfully wince back. "I feel like a baby when I go to sleep and I know the rest of you guys stay up and have a good time…"

"Honestly, Bella," Edward said, his voice stripped of any illusions. "I don't go downstairs with my family. I usually stay up here with you."

My ears pricked at his words. "What do you mean by 'usually'?"

Edward shrugged. "Sometimes Alice draws me out of the room, but I always return to you."

I pulled myself against Edward's chest, resting my head on his stone body. I felt his arms circle me and pull me tighter against him. His coldness was soothing; I was admittedly becoming more drawn to the cold than to warmth. Edward drew my hair against his lips, inhaling and caressing. I closed my eyes, trying to still my heart and keep control.

Somewhere in the room, I heard the door slowly open as Edward cradled me.

"Edward? Bella?"

"Yes, Alice?" Edward lifted his head and looked in her direction.

Alice, who took this as an invite in the room, skipped towards us and stood over us. She innocently clasped her hands in front of her, and smiled childishly at us. Edward watched her tensely as I tried my hardest not to bust out into laughter.

"Charlie called, Bella."

I sat up, looking at her. "Does he need me to come home?"

"Yes," she said quickly, her eyes flickering to Edward. "I'm not quite sure what for, but he said to come home when you can."

I stood to my feet and faced Edward. "It will only be a little while, okay?"

He nodded. "That's fine. While you're away, I can prepare a small dinner for you."

I brushed my lips against his. "I like that idea."

"Then so be it," Edward whispered. "I love you. Come back soon."

**----------**

I ran through the torrential rain to Charlie's front door, wondering what could possibly cause the urgency.

Charlie sat in the living room watching a sports game on television. At the sound of the door, he looked over the chair at me and smiled. "Hey, Bells."

I smiled warily. "Hi, Charlie," I walked into the house, surveying the immediate vicinity; nothing seemed aflame or damaged. "Is something the matter?"

"Jacob called," Charlie said, looking back to the television.

My heart flung at the mention of his name in heartbreak and happiness. I clenched my fists together and headed toward the phone; if Jacob called and Charlie told me about it, I was obligated to return the call.

"What did he say?" I asked as I dialed the La Push number.

"Just for you to call him back as soon as possible."

The phone hardly rang twice before it was picked up and a familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Jacob?"

"Bella, I'm glad you called me back!" He started, seemingly happy enough. An awkward pause settled in. "Um… what are you doing right now?"

I leaned against the counter and watched the rain slide down the window. "Nothing, really. I was over at Edward's house…"

"Would you come to La Push, Bella? I really need to talk to you."

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Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what's up. 3 


	2. Forest

I appreciate all of the reviews I've been getting :) And I'm really glad to see that so many of you are anxious to what Jacob is going to do... because you should be! hehe.

Pay attention to her description of nature enfolding her... it is important later on. Just a heads up so you aren't like "What?!" in later chapters.

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**"Forest"**

Several different responses choked my voice as he waited for my answer. I glanced at the clock, not even reading the time, and looked at the floor in thought. "I guess I can… Edward is expecting me to be back soon."

"That's fine. Just come to my house."

"Um… okay…?"

The line went dead with his urgency and I was left dumbly holding the phone to my ear. Blankly, I placed it back on the cradle and walked into the living room.

"I'm going to La Push, okay?"

"That's fine, honey," Charlie said, smiling at me. "How's Jake doing?"

I shrugged. I honestly didn't know. "He seemed okay. Just wants me to come see him real quick."

"Sounds fine to me," he turned his attention back to the television. "Are you staying the night with Alice again?" Alice, not Edward.

"I'd planned on it," my words were cautious. "We still have some wedding details to smooth out."

Charlie nodded again and looked up at me, smiling. "Okay, Bells. See you in a bit."

"Bye, dad."

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The drive to La Push was an anxious one.

First of all, I kept checking the rearview mirror to see if Edward's silver Volvo came into view or perhaps Alice's yellow Porsche. Neither ever clouded my mirror.

I was especially nervous to get to see Jake. It had been so long since we'd last spoken that this spontaneous phone call threw a million questions into my head. I didn't want to break anymore hearts and I didn't want to cry over him anymore.

But in between checking the rearview mirror and checking the clock, I found myself surveying my hair.

I haven't even been one to dye or cut my hair; I liked it just the way it was. However, something odd was definitely happening with my hair. Something that I wasn't doing.

My dark brown hair was lightening. And it had been for the past week.

Of course, it was happening gradually. It wasn't white—just a light brown, a few shades darker than Jasper's. Not to say I didn't like it, but it was terrifyingly unusual and bizarre.

Edward tilted his head every time I mentioned it, sifted through my hair, muttered "mmhmm" or "I see"… and then the conversation would be dropped and something new would be brought about.

And Alice wasn't any help. She liked it, because it was "change for Bella". It seemed like anything that repelled me, Alice liked on me.

But while most of the Cullens disregarded it or avoided it, it didn't take much to notice Carlisle's fascination with it. He fought to talk about it while Edward tried to suppress the topic. But it wasn't like it was an intriguing fascination; it was like a worried fascination. I don't know why that scared me, but it did.

I dropped a strand of my lightening hair and looked at the Blacks' house. Jake was sitting on the porch, waiting for me. My stomach jumped.

As I climbed out of my truck, it took all my strength to restrain my anxious shaking. I smiled. "Hey, Jake."

"Bella." His tone was flat and his face was blank, much different than what it had been on the phone.

"Is something wrong, Jake?" I drew closer, looking up at him.

He smiled vaguely at me and took my hand. "Let's go for a walk."

"Not until you tell me what's going on," my voice tremored.

Jake sighed and faced me, rolling his eyes. "I want to talk to you about the treaty between us and the Cullens." The name was thick with distaste and disgust.

"What about it? Shouldn't the others be here?" Something was definitely up…

Jake forcefully pulled me along. "Come _on_."

I didn't have much of a choice to follow him when he gripped my arm and yanked me into the thick forest. For a while, I dealt with him dragging me around, but I finally put my foot down.

"Jacob, stop… please."

He immediately froze and turned to me. I'd hoped that when he turned to face me, he would be excited, thrilled to take me on some new adventure in the La Push woods.

Of course, that was a vain hope. Beneath his collected visage was a sense of raging impatience. "What's wrong, Bella?"

"What's wrong with _me_?" I snorted, laughing as he released my arm. I studied it and saw a definite bruise forming. "I think it's more like what's wrong with you, Jake."

"I just want to talk to you, Bella," his voice was dark and pressing, scary. "It's really important."

I looked around me in the woods. "Why not right here?"

Jacob was silent as he evaluated the surroundings, as if it had a certain checklist to pass. Obviously, it did and failed, because he hastily shook his head. "No, not here. Just a little further. Just come on."

I watched him move forward, and I mindlessly followed him.

My focus needed to rest somewhere else, it needed to be isolated from the burning pit in my hollow stomach. As we trekked through the trees, I observed the beauty of the forest the best I could. The small wildflowers glowed with an eerie haze and it felt like each one was singing to me through this beauty. I found that if I looked up at the trees, the movement of the leaves and limbs shook me to my very core with a sheer joy—it was like it was all for me. The small tumbling breezes sifted not around my body, but through me. I'm sure I would have been swept off my feet if I wasn't bound to the earth.

Everything seemed so small, yet so significant as I walked through the forest. The surrounding nature eased my stomach and I forgot about Jacob until he—

"Okay, Bella, let's talk."

I pulled myself from the pool of thoughts and saw he had led me into a dark clearing, a sunken groove in the forest floor. He was sitting on a fallen log, facing a stone fireplace. His dark eyes indicated a spot next to me.

And then I wasn't so much at peace anymore.

On the log, I faced him, searching his blank features for any signs of anything. "What do you need to talk about?"

"The treaty," Jake said. "The elders are thinking about eliminating it since those vampires have shown some civil decency."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean? Can they just get rid of it like that?"

"Sure, if they want," he shrugged. "Except I don't think it's a good idea."

I rolled my eyes—of course he wouldn't. "The Cullens aren't bad people at all, Jake."

"No, they aren't," he mused, his voice tainted with sarcasm. "Because they aren't people, Bella; they're _monsters_."

"Monsters?" I screeched. Was he even aware of what he was saying to me? "They aren't monsters, Jake. They haven't done anything to you."

Jacob scoffed. "Is that so?" A sharp and haughty laugh snaked from him. "Why don't we take a look at the entire vampire population? Seattle, for instance. Remember that, Bella? Of course you do because all of it happened because of _you._"

I sucked in my words, slanted my eyes in restrained anger.

"And because of… of… Edward, my life is ruined," Jake spat. "I will never have the one person I love and I will always hurt."

I was immediately on my feet—he'd pushed me too far and out of absolutely nowhere. "Don't try to throw this on me, Jake, or on Edward. I told you that it was up to you whether or not you wanted to be friends, but you insisted that we do. _You_ wanted to fight to protect me. _You_ wanted to put yourself in the mix with Edward and me. _You—_"

My rant was cut short when Jacob was suddenly in my face, his arm wound around my neck to my face, his hot hand clamped over my mouth. A wild look swam in his eyes, his body pressed against mine.

"Stop, Bella."

I whimpered, my heart pounding not from excitement, but from the terror I suddenly felt wash over me.

"I know damn well what I've done, Bella. And everything I did, I had reasons for," his words seethed and nearly glowed in my face.

"Reasons?" I gasped through his hand

A scornful smile slid across his lips as he tightened his grip on me. "Yes, but they aren't any of your business," I wanted to open my mouth to speak, but his hand pressed against my mouth. "And the pain and heartbreak you put me through will be _nothing_ compared to what I'm going to do to you."

I would have screamed if he hadn't crushed his lips against mine.

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OH NO OH NO OH NO.

:D Review me for more. I'll need it. This next part is going to be... intense.

downtimexdamage


	3. No

Here is my third chapter of _Daylight's Requiem._

I imagine some of you might not be happy with what happens and some might not even read it further, but I promise you a thousand times it makes up for it later. Remember the first chapter? Yeah, multiply that by, like, seven. We still have their wedding, don't we?

Anyway, I've really appreciated every review and all of you that put alerts on this story and favorited me and the story itself. It's an honor. Review me and let me know what you think. I know this one will be hard. It's like the _New Moon_ of my story... at least for me. But then it gets better, I swear!

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**"No"**

It hadn't even happened and I already knew what was going to happen to me.

I was going to be one of those girls in the crime shows that were found in some remote part of a forest, dead body beaten and clothes ripped open. There would be detectives surrounding me and Charlie would be there, watching on as a father and not as a police officer. And Edward…

Jake pulled away from me and I hoped that was it; that he was just being dramatic.

Instead, he pushed me into the dirt and was soon hovering over me, straddling my waist. This wasn't happening. This kind of thing couldn't be happening to _me_.

His lips were at my ear, whispering, "If you are quiet, Bella, this won't hurt as much."

"Jake, please—please don't do this…" my voice floated past my head.

"Why not?" he growled against my neck.

I gasped painfully, the tears welling in my eyes. I couldn't even come up with a comprehensive answer; choked sounds slipped through my throat.

"I'm not killing you, Bella," his voice was low and rough.

My breath caught in my throat.

His hands grazed up my chest and caught themselves at the first button on my shirt. "Just… stop. Don't speak."

"What are you doing?" I whimpered, fighting to free myself.

But he didn't answer. The next thing I was aware of, my shirt was lying to my side. My head fluttered dangerously close to unconsciousness as I wept and kicked at him. I lifted my fists, but his hands gripped my wrists and threw them down on either side of my head. Jake's face was buried in my neck as I let out a terrified scream, my heart racing.

"Stop it, Bella," Jake growled, pulling my hair from the roots.

"No," I yelled, sinking my teeth into his shoulder. "This is—no, Jake… no!"

Jake sat up and glared at me as I shook with my tears. I felt him fumble with the jeans I was wearing as I kicked and screamed for him to stop. His hand clamped over my mouth, nearly suffocating me.

I just wanted to die at this point.

I thrashed as he fought with his clothing, rage glowing in his eyes as he pulled off his jeans, and a terrifying gaze of lust as his boxers disappeared.

A scream rattled through my body as he lowered himself over me, forcing my legs apart. I closed my eyes, screaming "no" through his hand—it sounded so pathetic, so defeated. My fingernails dug into the back of his hands as he began to strip off my underwear, my eyes burning from the tears and dust.

I didn't think as it happened. I felt the earth enfold me, taking me in to nurture the pain that literally wracked my body. The arms of nature cradled me as I wept and screamed through the agony, like a mother would comfort a child. Indescribable, ghostly voice sang songs to me… what was it that Edward had called them? Songs of lament, of heartbreak, of sorrow.

A requiem.

As I lay in the dirt, the song wove images of the Cullens and Charlie in my head, almost too real to be imagined.

I saw Charlie at home, watching the baseball game, completely oblivious to what was happening to his daughter by the boy he trusted and preferred for her.

Alice flickered into view, sitting in her bedroom as she went over our wedding plans, occasionally marking on the sheets of paper and forms. She fell back against the carpet, enthralled.

Surprisingly, I saw Rosalie as she combed through the racks of dresses and suits for the occasion. She fidgeted with my veil, smiling at the thought of me in it, standing with her brother.

Emmett was watching the plasma television, almost blankly. He looked in the direction of the great window and his brow furrowed in deep concern…

Across the house, Carlisle sat in his office, studying a frame of singular pictures of each of the Cullens. His eyes lingered on each one, smiling at the thoughts and memories of each one.

Quiet Jasper sat in his study, gazing out of the window. A book was in front of him, but his mind was clearly floating somewhere else in the world.

I would have smiled when I saw Esme walking towards Carlisle's office, her beautiful heart glowing with love.

And then there was Edward.

Edward was at the kitchen counter as something cooked on the stove. He was anxiously watching the clock, no doubt waiting for my return. His eyes wearily fell to the tile countertop, his hands combing through his hair.

_I love you. Come back soon._

The words burned my heart.

After forever, Jacob stopped and lay on top of me. A faint rain was falling now, the storm obviously moving to La Push. My body convulsed beneath him. I was disgusted and horrified.

"Are you done?" I gasped. The words were ancient in my mouth.

Jake lifted my body and pushed it against him, his mouth mashing against mine. His fingers ripped through my hair as he violently kissed me, biting my lip and filling my mouth with his tongue.

He sharply pulled away. "Yes," He studied me as I wept. "Was I better than the leech?"

A shriek accompanied my sobs. I hadn't even thought of the fact that this moment—this first time—wasn't even shared with Edward.

Jake's fingers pressed against my neck, threatening to crush it. "Was I?"

"I… I don't know…"

"What do you mean by that?"

A sob bubbled from my throat. "We've never…" I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"Oh, so the parasite has never fucked you?"

All I could do was cry. Every part of my universe hurt.

"So, I'm your first," he mused. He traced my hairline. "I deflowered the virgin."

"Let me go…" I couldn't take this anymore.

Jake smiled darkly at me. "At least spend a little time talking about the treaty with me."

My eyes closed. "There isn't anything to talk about, Jake. It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't?" He asked. "You don't want me to be friends with Edward?"

"You're going to be lucky if he wants you anything more than dead," my voice echoed loudly through the woods.

Jake froze up, his face twisted in anger. "Bella, if you tell anyone about this, I will tear you apart."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have done it!"

He threw me to the wet ground, his hands clamped around my throat, restricting my breathing. "I will kill you right now, Bella, if you don't promise me you won't say a word about this."

My fingers pried at his fingers.

"I—I won't…" my voice was cracked and strained.

Jake glared at me for a long time, gripping my throat. He searched my face for any lies, but I knew they would be hard to find through the agony of trying to breathe.

"Bella, I _can_ kill you…" he said, tightening his grip on my throat. "Remember that."

My head nodded against the dust.

Releasing my throat, he lifted himself off of me. "Okay." He stood up and left me on the ground as he dressed himself again.

I lay still, trying to catch my breath and sink back into myself. My body was cold from the breeze and rain, and I could feel Jacob critically watching me inhale and exhale.

"Do you need some help getting dressed?"

"I can do it myself," I murmured, standing to my feet. I relocated all my clothes and pulled them on one at a time.

"Your wedding's next week?" Jake asked as I miserably buttoned my shirt.

I nodded. "It is."

Jake's hands wound around my waist in a dangerous way. "Then I'll be there."

"I'd rather you not come."

He turned me to face him, his eyes boring into mine. My hands rose defensively against his chest, but it wasn't any good. Jake pressed his hot lips against mine. "I'll be there,"Jake released me, shoving me forward. "Follow the path. It leads right out of the forest."

A wave of sobs and screaming rose in my throat and before I knew it, I was running through the trees.

As I ran, the trees and the ground disappeared beneath my feet. The forest disappeared around me, my mind focused on the burning hole in my stomach that slowly consumed my body. I saw the grey light filtering through the trees and limped to my red truck, waiting faithfully.

Inside, I threw myself against the window, the rain's downfall picking up. The fire in me burned so much… breaking my heart and melting my brain. The crying gripped me as I started my truck, reversed, and drove out of La Push.

----------

Driving home, the images fluttered into my head…

Charlie, putting his jacket on to leave the house. His face was melted in concern as he walked through the door…

Alice was perched on Jasper's desk, gazing out the window with him. Neither one of them appeared aware of the other's presence, except for their intertwined hands…

Esme and Carlisle were in his office, slowly dancing together to a record player. I had never seen the two so in love with the other…

The beautiful Rosalie sat in front of a vanity, blankly and sadly looking at her reflection. She looked like she was moments from crying…

Emmett walked through the hallway, headed towards Edward's room, but he was gone before I saw him enter it…

And Edward sat at his piano, pounding out a furious song. I could only see his back, but his body shook with each chord and note. It was like him to play his piano when he needed control…

----------

I walked into Charlie's house, my feet dragging. His cruiser wasn't in the driveway, and I found a note stuck to the door explaining that he had an emergency call at the station. I was grateful he wasn't home to see me as the mess I was.

I couldn't possibly go to the Cullens' mansion looking like this, especially when the last thing I wanted was for someone to even question me about it. I would go into the shower, rinse the blood and dirt off of me along with the pain and memory of it. It would almost be like it never even happened. Almost.

The shower was refreshing, I'll admit. I studied my body, analyzing the bruises and the cuts. My entire middle ached whenever I would bend or sit, and I imagined it would stay like that for days to come. My thighs were already bruising, along with my wrists and neck. I wasn't sure how to go about hiding this.

I stood unmoving in the shower, the water sticking to my skin as it rinsed off the grime. Small waves of peace curled at my heart, soothing me and easing me. Although the pain was still there and it burned in my stomach, it was at least manageable.

My cell phone permeated the hazy bathroom, ringing gently. I stepped out and checked the screen.

_Edward_.

"Hello, Edward," I tried to sound as cheerful as possible.

"Where are you, love?"

How could I lie to Edward and make it believable? "I'm in the shower right now."

"You could have showered here, you know…" Edward faked a hurt voice.

"I know, but I figured since I'm already here, I'd go ahead and clean up."

Edward caught on to the last part of my sentence, but played his subtle game. "What did Charlie need you to do?"

Oh no. "He needed me to help him put together a dresser for his bedroom."

"Did that require a lot of physical labor?" he casually challenged

"Are we playing twenty questions, Edward?"

"I don't know, are we?"

I tried a laugh out, and it sounded convincing. "I'll be back over in a little bit."

"Hopefully not too long," I could almost smell his soothing velvet voice. "I miss my Bella."

"And I miss my Edward."

Edward let out a small and soft laugh. "See you when you arrive."

I flipped the phone shut, retreated behind the curtains, and collapsed onto the shower floor, sobbing.

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Don't hate me! I love you all very, very much. But I'm probably with the majority of you; kill Jacob! hehe

I don't think this goes in M rating... I kept it void of any descriptions.

Review and let me know! Thank you


	4. Rebuild

WOW. Where did all the reviews, alerts, and favorites come from? I appreciated it so much and I'm probably addicted. I got a ton of laughs from some of you guys who are pitchfork happy with Jacob. hehe

Anyway, this one took a while to get out, at least on my standards. I didn't know how to handle this post-rape chapter, especially in Bella's point of view. I almost wrote it according to Edward, but then I decided not to because one, he doesn't know and two, we need to see her hurt. There's still the possibility of an Edward point of view though. I just have to decide when and what the storyline looks like when we get there.

Hopefully this compensates for what happened last chapter, haha.

_**Music**: Sound of Pulling Heaven Down - Blue October_

* * *

**"Rebuild"**

Curled up on Edward's bed, I lost myself in my thoughts for the first time in a long time.

Past the window, a violent storm rolled through the sky, illuminating the dark room with bursts of lightening and shaking my bones with thunder. There was the steady beating of rain on the panes, rocking my simple human heart to an easier state of mind.

I couldn't bring myself to close my eyes and face looking into Jacob's eyes; seeing the rage and knowing the control he'd had over me was almost too much to take.

And besides, I couldn't risk breaking down in front of Edward.

I watched him as he walked across his bedroom after putting a CD in his player. His white button up shirt was open, releasing his elegant glow. His bronze hair surrounded his face like a halo woven out of ethereal gold. A gentle smile laced his lips as he gracefully climbed onto the bed and settled beside me.

"What is my beautiful Bella thinking about?" he asked as he traced my lips with his cold finger.

I could never tell him. I pulled myself close to him and he immediately drew me against his chest. He lifted my lips to meet his, tenderly touching me.

In Edward's arms, I forgot about the forest, about Jacob, and about the agony that burned inside of me like a wild fire. On my way to the Cullen's mansion, I was terrified that if Edward were to touch me, I would remember too vividly what happened and I would breakdown and cry and have to tell everyone. But instead, he soothed me; his icy body numbed the pain. When his hands moved over me, it was like they were dusting away the tension and self disgust; when his lips moved with mine, it was like they were pulling the pain out from inside of me; when he would look into my eyes, his fire topaz eyes evaporated my tears.

When I'd pulled myself from my mind, I realized he was on top of me, moving his hands along my sides, waist, and thighs, searching. His lips roughly caressed my neck, jaw, and lips, pushing me for more. I so badly wanted to let my guard down, forget everything and give myself to Edward—but an invisible force reigned me in.

Edward lifted himself a little bit and pulled me back with his eyes. "Bella, where are you?"

"What do you mean?" I breathed.

"You seem so distant," he said, brushing a stand of hair from my eyes. "Are you thinking?"

"Yeah," I admitted.

"What of?"

I reached in my mind for something—anything—to feign thought over. I tightened my hold on one. "The wedding."

Edward kissed me once, but firmly and sincerely. "Oh, yes," he said. "Mrs. Isabella Marie _Cullen_."

I smiled at this. "I can't wait."

"Neither can I, Bella," he whispered against my lips. "Neither can I."

----------

"Alright, and here is the bridesmaid dresses—Rosalie, you asked for scarlet, I asked for cerulean, and Esme wanted gold… oh, Jasper's suit is right here—I was wondering where I'd put that—"

It was hard not to enjoy myself when I was with Alice, sorting through the dresses for the wedding. I can't imagine how she lived away from the bathroom of hers that had been transformed into a dressing room; it seemed like her every thought was consumed by me and Edward's wedding. And she most likely was.

"Has Edward seen my dress yet?" I asked.

Alice looked up from Rosalie's red pair of stilettos. She smiled triumphantly. "No, he hasn't. I've managed to block my thoughts from him concerning the dress."

"How can you do that?"

She shrugged. "I've lived with the guy for years upon decades; it gets easier."

The door to the bathroom opened quietly, causing Alice to react with disturbing speed.

"Edward, if that's you, then you had better think twice before stepping foot in this room!"

A deep laugh resonated in the room. "It's just me—Carlisle. Am I permitted entrance?"

Alice half grimaced, half smiled as she opened the bathroom door wider. "I'm sorry, Carlisle; I thought you were an espionage Edward."

Carlisle strolled in, looking around the room. "No, Edward's downstairs," his eyes settled on me. "I wanted to speak to Bella."

I felt my cheeks bloom in red. "Me?"

"Yes," he said, walking towards me. "Well, rather I wanted to look at your hair."

Of course. He was so desperately intrigued by the mystery of its color that he studied it like a specimen. It had been four days since La Push (four terribly heart wrenchingly numb days that I was trying to erase) and my hair was approaching a light, light brown.

Carlisle sifted through my hair, searching it. "This is simply bizarre," he murmured. "I've never seen anything like it except in books."

My ears pricked at the last part of this sentence. "What do you mean 'in books'?"

Carlisle drew back, sighing with thought. "When I was with the Volturi, I studied the journals and works of Caius's early travels around the world. He documented different encounters with different mythical creatures," He leaned against a vanity that was stocked with flowers. "He came across werewolves, nymphs, small fairy forests, and then one angel."

I tilted my head in interest. Alice had even drawn close; obviously, Carlisle hadn't told many about this.

"The angel had descended from heaven into a meadow that he was camping in," Carlisle began. "Caius remarked on the angel's likeness to his childhood friend, Hecate. The angel then smiled at him and said, 'I _am_ Hecate'.

"Of course, Caius was amazed and, at first, disbelieving, but then the angel reached out and touched his cheek. It was a sudden epiphany, as he described it, as memories with his friend came rushing back in an instant and he was soon reduced to his knees before the holy creature.

"Hecate told him of her transformation and her decision to live among the other angels in the Lord's house. Caius, naturally, asked how the transformation had come about," Carlisle's eyes flickered to mine from the flower he had been twirling in his fingers. "One of the first stages of the transformation was the lightening of her hair. She had had hair as black as ebony, but when Caius saw her, it was as pale as alabaster."

Alice squeezed my hand. A bubble stuck in my throat as I searched my head. "Was there a second stage?"

"Yes," Carlisle said, his expression darkening. "She was murdered and, as her murderer left her to die, she was restored by Gabriel the archangel."

A pit opened up in my stomach. "So what does that mean?"

Carlisle smiled at me. "It means we are going to take extra precautions until you are changed to make sure nothing traumatizing or fatal happens to you."

The fire burnt in my stomach again and I wanted to tell them that it was too late. I also wanted to press for the other stages, but I was almost certain that Carlisle would pick up on what I was doing and question me until I told him what happened.

Alice wrapped an arm around me. "I'm sure you aren't turning into an angel on us, Bella."

"Would it be a bad thing if I was?"

Carlisle shook his head quickly. "Absolutely not!" He laughed. "In fact, I do believe it would be the exact opposite."

I wanted to ask Carlisle _why_ it would be the exact opposite, but at the moment, my phone sounded from my pocket.

Surprised, I pulled it from my jeans and looked at the screen.

_Jake_.

My breath was caged like a frantic bird in my stomach, writhing and flapping against me. My arm wound around my middle, a disgustingly familiar stance for holding myself together. I rocked from side to side, the screen of my phone chilling me to the core of the fire inside of me.

"Who is it?" Alice's voice was casual; it had no reason to be otherwise.

I swallowed what certainly could have been bile. "It's Jake."

She wrinkled her nose. "Are you going to answer it?"

"No," I said quickly as the screen announced my missed call. I dropped it in my pocket, my face clearly blanched to the curious vampires.

"Is something wrong, Bella?" Carlisle asked, leaning forward.

I shook my head, lying. "No, nothing's wrong. I just don't want to talk to him right now."

"You look ill…"

"Yeah," I admitted, queasily. "I'm a little past that point."

Alice gripped my forearm. "Maybe you should go lie down. I'm sure Edward would be more than pleased to ease you."

Bemused, I walked out of the bathroom, leaving a confused Alice and intrigued Carlisle behind as a small beep in my pocket went off.

Voicemail.

Stealthily, I stowed myself in a small nook of the corridor that led to Edward's room to listen. My fingers shook as I dialed the number to my voicemail and my breathing was ridiculously uneven as I listened.

"You have… one… unheard voicemail," the melody of the woman's voice paused, as if she were smiling warmly at me. "First unheard message:" The clear reception of the robot was stricken with unnerving static and a terrifying voice. "Bella, it's me, Jake," As if Lucifer himself needed an introduction. A static breath shook my heart. "Have you told anyone?" A pause so still rumbled through me, as if he expected me to answer and hear it. "Good. Don't."

I snapped the phone shut, dazed and hollow and raw all over again.

Past the rim of my hurting universe, I heard Edward's bedroom door open, accompanied by his beautiful voice. "Bella?"

I looked up, tucking my phone in my back pocket. "I'm right here, Edward."

"I thought I heard you," he said, walking towards me, the curtains in my mind parting. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I just had a voicemail," I said.

Edward tilted his head. "From who?"

I knew I wouldn't be able to lie to him; he would find out one way or another from Alice, Rosalie, or Carlisle's thoughts. "It was… um, Jacob."

He tensed up, eying me cautiously. "What did he want?"

Deception was a terrible thing I was becoming ashamedly more graceful at. "He wanted to tell me he plans on attending the wedding."

"Oh, does he?" Edward asked, taking my hand in his as we walked towards his bedroom. For a brief second, I thought he had penetrated my thoughts and read them. My fears were subsided when he bent down to kiss me, gently kicking the door close. "I anticipate his attendance then."

It took more self control that I thought I possibly possessed to swallow my tears and suffocate my scream.

----------

The gauzed sky illuminated Edward's bedroom through the window.

Today was my wedding day.

I gripped the thick gold comforter to my chest as I let the silence wash over me, easing me into simple thoughts. Edward had left me as soon as I'd woke up to take a shower. If I closed my eyes, I could hear the steady shower in the bathroom. The mansion was so quiet.

I pulled the blanket back over my head and burrowed deep into the bed. I wore one of Edward's white button-up shorts and a pair of my shorts, which wasn't too warm. The cold seeped through me, lulling me to sleep.

Past the doors of his bedroom, past even my mind's barriers, I saw everyone flicker into my mind like short film clips.

Edward, standing in front of his mirror, combing his hair...

Esme, brushing her hair and eying my wedding dress reflected in the mirror…

Rosalie and Alice, walking into the bathroom and dressing room…

Emmett, Jasper, and Carlisle, setting chairs up in the misty backyard…

Charlie, sitting at the kitchen table, gazing at a cup of coffee…

Smiling, I pulled the blanket tighter around me. I had no idea where these images came from (my imagination, probably), but seeing my loved ones in such clarity made my heart sing with joy. Each and every one of them was beautiful to me; where would I be without even one of them? Edward had taught me what it is to love; Esme showed me motherly caring; Rosalie introduced me to the pain behind perfection; Alice taught me to dance when I thought it was impossible to even stand; Emmett was truly the brother I had never had; Jasper led me to patience, trust, control; Carlisle showed me a new facet of concern and healing; and Charlie was my father who tolerated me but loved me more than words could ever express.

A stone arm anchored me in; Edward.

"Good morning," he breathed as he dug me up from the blankets.

I stretched, smiling. "Edward…"

He pressed his lips against mine, placing his chest over me, his arms on either side. His amber eyes glowed. "Do you know what today is?"

"No," I teased. "Oh, wait, yes I do! Saturday, right?"

Edward laughed and ran his fingers through my hair. "I'm going to marry the most gorgeous and astounding girl in all of existence."

"Edward!" I gasped in fake shock; his face twisted in confusion. "How _dare_ you see another girl behind my back! I am so hurt…"

"Oh, no, no, no," he said, holding my face in his hands, his eyes smoldering. "Her name is Isabella Marie Swan."

"She's so lucky," I mused. "She gets to marry the beautiful and perfect boy in all of existence."

Edward lifted my face up to his, trailing his lips along mine, and to the hollow below my ear. He held still, feeling my pulse beneath his lips. His slender fingers tangled in my hair as he pressed his mouth harder against my skin. A gentle growl rose from his throat, his hand falling to my waist, securely pulling me against him.

"What would I do without you, Bella?" He whispered against my neck. "You are absolutely everything this world has to offer me," Edward lifted his head to look at me. "I'm so undeserving to have an angel as my wife."

As Edward Cullen pressed his mouth against me with a passion yet to be fulfilled, I found myself caught by his last words. He might have known about Carlisle's theory about me, but the chances were still unlikely.

And that scared me.

* * *

Remember: read and review! Feedback makes me want to write faster. And that is a fact, son. 

I love you and thanks :D


	5. Her Day

_I don't know why, but this one took a while to get out. Maybe because it bored me. Dang it._

_At any rate, I truly appreciate the reviews, alerts, and favorites! Maybe one of these days I'll take a picture of my face when I get my reviews and I'll put it somewhere on here so you can see how happy I get :D I even appreciate the ones from the people who don't like it--you can't write to please everyone._

_And guys... just give Bella some time. Think of it from her point of view: she's terrified, hurt, and angry. I want her to tell someone--anyone--what happened, but not yet. Like Rosalie insists, "She'll tell us when she's ready." She will, I promise._

_Also, allow me to say that Jacob Black is OOC for a reason. This has been a recurring issue in reviews, and I'm aware of it :D It's all just setting up for a later chapter...  
_

_**Music**: X Amount of Words - Blue October_

_Read and review and tell me what you love, like, hate, or could do without._

* * *

**"Her Day"**

Edward ducked out of his bedroom soon after that to keep our contact until the wedding minimal. Almost immediately after he left, Alice swept in and jumped on the bed.

"Bella! Bella! Good morning!" Her ecstasy flooded and ignited the dreary bedroom. Alice wrapped her arms around me, swinging me from side to side. "Today is the day! All of our work and waiting! What are we waiting for? Let's start getting you ready!"

I laughed as she pulled me from the bed, babbling to herself about the plans and preparations yet to be completed. We stopped in front of the wide window in the main room.

And just like I had seen, Carlisle, Emmett, and Jasper were setting up chairs in a fog. I shivered as I tried to make sense of these visions, but Alice pulled me from thought when she dragged me into the kitchen where Rosalie and Esme were no doubt waiting for me.

"What are we doing?" I asked when Alice's infective chaos has settled.

"First and foremost, you need to eat," Esme said as she fidgeted with something that looked like pancakes. "Then after that, you have a hot bath to yourself while we set up the yard and pick up Renee and Charlie."

"Who is helping Edward get ready?" Alice sat me in a chair, placing a glass of orange juice in front of me. I felt like a doll.

Rosalie faintly smirked. "Of course Carlisle, Jasper, Emmett," she reclined in the wooden chair, vaguely thinking. "I'm certainly disappointed that I don't get to be in on _that_ team. Can you imagine Emmett trying to primp Edward up?"

Alice giggled. "Emmett making fun of Edward, Edward getting irritated with Emmett, Carlisle trying to calm everyone down, and Jasper just standing by..." She sighed happily. "Bella may look like an angel, but we've got to keep a steady eye on the men."

Esme tapped Alice playfully on the head. "Be nice, Alice dear," She gently served my breakfast to me and sat across the table, folding her hands underneath her chin. "Did you sleep well, Bella?"

I nodded. "It was good."

"We had to nearly rip Edward out of his bedroom," Rosalie said, smirking.

I swallowed a bite. "What for?"

Alice shifted her eyes coyly. "A few… things."

"Alice, what kind of things?" I could feel my lips defying me by smiling.

"Um…" Alice fiddled with a clipboard that was lying on the table; the wedding checklist and preparation. She jumped to her feet. "Onto the bathroom, Bella! We've got some bride pampering to do!"

This was going to be a long day.

----------

In all truth, it was a blur. I was rushed from bathroom to bathroom, all the while Alice checking corners for Edward. I had found that the entire cache of wedding gowns, suits, shoes, and the like were spread out in the mansion like tiny divisions. I laughed when Alice would panic over a lost pair of shoes that she was holding; I felt accepted when Rosalie would apply a certain makeup style to my cheeks and eyes, study it thoughtfully, and call it 'gorgeous'; I was eased when Esme would pull me into her arms, hugging me, and just hold me.

For once, I felt truly accepted into this family.

Around four that afternoon—two hours short of the ceremony—Rosalie began putting full, flowing curls into my typically straight hair. Alice had skipped out of us to help Renee and Charlie get ready for the ceremony and Esme was standing in, watching Edward's preparation. For the most part, Rosalie and I were silent; I'd discovered that with her, not much had to be said and it still felt like we were having a conversation. I sat in a calm thought, watching her perfect hands weave through my hair.

"Bella?"

My head lifted from the thought pool it was in. "Yes?"

For a long moment, Rosalie didn't say anything. She just worked diligently on my hair, and I almost wondered if she said my name to make sure I was still there. Then, her lips parted gently. "Have you been… alright?"

I felt my heart lurch and I immediately thought about Jacob. The last thing I wanted to think of… was him. On my wedding day. "Yeah, I've been fine. Why?"

Rosalie bit her lip, a trace of sadness on her brow. An image flickered into my head—Rosalie sitting in front of this very vanity, moments from crying. "I've been worried about you," she sighed. "And when Jacob called you, it made it worse."

Was my face turning as white as it felt? "It… it wasn't anything, really."

"Are you sure?" Rosalie asked, looking at me in the mirror with her beautifully crafted eyebrow arched. "I mean, if something was, would you tell me? If he has done anything to you, Bella, would you tell me?"

The lie tore my stomach apart, but I kept my composure. "I would tell you before I tell anyone else."

Rosalie nodded solemnly. "Bella, for some reason, I don't quite believe that."

A heavy, sadness saturated breath out of me. "Does this have anything to do with Carlisle's theory, Rosalie?"

In the mirror, Rosalie tensed. "I'm looking out for you, Bella. And when you're ready to tell me, you can."

My eyes shut as I closed myself off. A little, tiny voice screamed from the inside to stop, to open up to this woman who knew the feeling of rape and heartbreak, to tell her. But I watched in horror as a black haze swept the voice off and I was left alone in my black void as Rosalie curled and brushed my hair.

"Edward loves you."

I nodded. "I know."

"You should have seen him when I went into their bathroom to check on him," Rosalie laughed gently behind me. "He was so incredibly anxious. All he wanted to know about was Bella."

Behind me, I heard the door swing open, followed by Alice and her sing song voice. "Rosalie! Don't talk about Edward to her!"

"I'm sorry," Rosalie said, though her voice sounded teasingly unapologetic. "But I know you agree, Alice."

"With what?" I saw Rosalie shoot Alice a knowing look. "Oh! Well, yes, of course."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded, looking up at the two smiling sisters. It wasn't as if they could read one another's minds, but that I was missing the joke.

Rosalie held Alice's gaze with laughter in her gold eyes, and returned to my hair, ignoring my question. "My, Bella, your hair is simply fascinating…"

"Not to say it doesn't suit you, though," Alice said as she propped herself on stool by the vanity. "In fact, I would venture to say I like it more than your brown hair," She lifted a warm curl in her fingers. "Are you sure you haven't been doing this to your hair behind our backs? I mean, not that I wouldn't know it regardless, but still…"

I sighed; this wasn't the first time Alice has speculated this out loud. "Alice, I'm pretty sure."

"At any rate, I like it, too," Rosalie chimed in, pinning a few of my curls up. I flinched as the metal points dug into my scalp. "But it does make me curious…"

Alice tapped her fingers on the clipboard that had been her companion all day. "After this, Bella, you'll have to navigate to Esme's room to change into your dress. Do you know where that is?" I nodded as Rosalie studied my hair for the hundredth time. "Good, because you'll be going by yourself. Rosalie and I have to go check on Charlie and Renee's status, as well as the catering service," Alice drew the clipboard close to her face, studying a schedule. "You shouldn't have any chance to run into Edward, so I think we can trust you in that respect."

I closed my eyes as Rosalie sprayed a light mist of hairspray. "I think I can manage a few minutes alone."

The two beautiful sisters kissed me on my cheek as they disappeared out of the bathroom, leaving me dazed in the mirror. I looked down at my hands in my lap and saw my bare finger; strange, because I'd become so used to seeing Edward's ring there. A smile lifted my lips as I reminded myself it was only a matter of time…

"There you are."

The voice behind me made me jump. At first, I thought it was Edward's because it was a man, but when I spun around on the bench, I shamed myself for being so naïve as to believe that.

He was dressed nicely; in fact, I hadn't ever seen him in a black suit before. But it looked different on him. Too big, too small… I couldn't tell which. It didn't belong on him. His black hair was hanging in his face, but his eyes pinpointed me like prey. I felt myself shrink and the fire in my gut rage.

The blood in my face chilled and then dangerously warmed up again. "Jacob…"

Jacob stalked towards me, his hands tucked in his pockets. "I'm glad I found you."

"How… how did you get in?"

"Well," Jacob said, standing over me, his lips twisted in a hazardous smile. "See, there's this thing called a _door_ on most houses…"

I shook my head as my body spun out of control. "No, Jake… leave."

That dangerous smirk brooded on his face. "Why?"

"If you don't leave right now, I'll scream," the words, which were meant to be threatening and frightening, came out weak and silly. My heart was racing and I hoped the Jasper was nearby to sense the absolute terror that was coursing through me.

Jacob had pulled me to my feet. "Don't do it."

Tears dropped from my eyes. "Jacob, what more do you want? Just leave me alone…"

I watched as Jacob tilted his head, studying me. A shiver tumbled through me as his fingers traced from my elbows to my waist, pulling me against him. Involuntarily, muffled shriek slipped from me, causing him to tighten his fingers painfully; a warning. He lowered his lips next to my ear. "Just one more time…"

My hands were in fists against his chest as I tried to push myself away from him. I whimpered, shaking. What had caused this change in Jacob? He used to be so kind, even in his bad times. He had never hurt me, never _wanted _to hurt me… until now. Memories ripped through my thoughts, everything from his smile to his laugh to his sunshine personality. And for a brief moment, I wondered if I had I chosen him, if everything in my life would be better.

The answer was no, because at that moment, his lips were crushing mine and his hands grabbed and ran over my waist, stomach, breasts, and face, violently searching me. I screamed into his mouth and he ripped away from me, shoving me down on the bench. He made his way back to the door.

"The others will know what you did. They'll smell you," I croaked.

Jacob coldly smirked at me. "No, they won't, Bella." And he disappeared out of the bathroom, leaving me shaking and crying on the bench.

It seemed like Jacob's presence was immediately replaced by Jasper's, who was crouched down in front of me, holding my shoulders and trying to pull me back to reality. I looked up, trying to reign in my tears. "Bella, what's wrong? You're hysterical."

I shook my head, drying my eyes with my hands. "I'm okay, Jasper…"

"You are hurt, Bella. You heart is broken, you're crying, you've got so much anxiety and panic running around you, it's almost affecting me," Jasper whispered. "What happened?"

The words stamped my tongue, begging me to announce them. But I was immediately reminded of Jacob's threat. It would be a complete mess to tell Jasper I was raped, especially on my wedding day. I could only imagine the rage Edward would feel when he heard Jasper's thoughts... "I'm just nervous, Jasper."

"She'll tell us when she's ready," Jasper and I looked to see Rosalie leaned in the doorway, her forehead creased in anxiety. "You need to go change, Bella. You don't have a lot of time and we still have to apply your makeup."

I nodded, attempting a smile. Rosalie watched me walk out of the bathroom, her eyes following me down the hallway, up the stairs, and possibly even as I walked into Esme's room, my heart hurting and my eyes heavy.

Why hadn't Jasper come in just five seconds before he actually did?

----------

Patiently, I stood behind the curtains of the double doors that led out to my wedding. I could feel the procession lined up, whispering quietly to one another in their own version of excitement. The lights in the mansion had been dimmed, creating the anxious atmosphere that swam around us. I stood at the side of the line of my bridesmaids, Renee, and Charlie. My fingers gripped the bouquet tightly as I heard my gentle lullaby playing past me. A chilling breeze shuffled through the curtains, almost as if to cue us.

A cold hand slipped into mine—Alice. She smiled warmly at me. "Bella, this is it. Are you ready?"

I had been waiting for this moment and no one, not even Jacob Black, was going to make it any less meaningful or beautiful for me.


	6. Speak

_Ah, finally... the wedding! I've been both dreading and anticipating this part. I'll admit, the last part of this chapter wrote itself. I hadn't intended for it to turn out like this (though some of you, I'm sure, are happy that it did), but it sure did. And I think I like it like this._

_Again, your reviews keep me going. Let me know what you think. It means way more than you think it does. And I always reply. _

_**Music: **Congratulations - Blue October. I'm on a Blue October kick, sorry guys. But I think if you've been listening to the songs, you'll see that it works with the chapters. It does for me, anyway. _

* * *

**"Speak"**

It was the moment every girl dreams of, from the time they become aware that something called 'love' exists past their small microcosm. I remembered being that quiet little girl that had all her baby dolls and playhouses ready to trade in for the real ones. I remembered all the little schoolyard crushes that seemed so desperately significant, but, over time, kind of faded into the dust I walk on now.

This transition from child to adult caught my focus as I watched each of my bridesmaids step through the curtain to meet their lover that waited to escort them down the aisle—Rosalie with Emmett, Jasper and Alice. It was only Esme and Renee that were different, as Charlie was my escort by tradition and Carlisle was the one to perform the ceremony. They simply walked down the aisle together—mother with mother.

I didn't dare look past the curtain and ruin the surprise. Past the one thing that kept me hidden like a deep secret, I could tell that twilight was coming. It would be dark by the time the ceremony ended.

"Bella, it's time." I drew back from my daze to see that Charlie was smiling warmly at me, his arm outstretched for mine.

Cautiously yet decidedly, I took his arm and felt the cool air of the yard wash over me.

Alice had done beautifully. Gold and ivory candles lined the aisle all the way up to the front, where the altar was. There, a beautiful glow from hundreds of candles struck the faces of the people I loved the most, the women on one side and the men on the other, with Edward and Carlisle in the center. Edward was dressed in a black suit with a gold tie tucked into the jacket, looking more beautiful that I could remember. He caught the movement of the congregation's heads as they turned to see me, the bride, walking down the aisle, and he slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes to meet mine. I saw his breath hitch in his mouth, causing me to blush.

I became aware of the people as I passed them, yet their faces blurred together because my heart was pounding so fast. A sudden wave of serenity washed over me; of course Jasper was behind this. I looked over at Charlie, who was fighting back fatherly tears as we came closer to the altar. My bare fingers gripped the bouquet of red roses and the small envelope of my vows as I thought, _This is it._

Edward stepped forward to meet us, father and daughter and lover.

It was wordless, the exchange they made; Charlie smiled at me as he placed my hand in Edward's and melted into the congregation to take a seat.

Rosalie, Alice, and Esme watched Edward and I make our way back to Carlisle; a blush crept back on my face because I knew everyone was watching me. I stole a glance at Edward's best men. Emmett was smiling a knowing but silly smirk, his curly black hair hanging in his gold eyes. I flashed a small smile at Jasper, who watched on with a satisfied happiness.

The candlelight flickered across Edward's face as he lifted his eyebrows in what could have been awe, his mouth held tightly shut. He looked like a beautiful ghost as opposed to his usual stoniness.

"If I'm not mistaken," Carlisle's voice floated into my face like a cloud, diverting our attention to him. "This is the day that each of us has been waiting to happen. It was never a matter of _if _Bella and Edward would join together, but _when_," Carlisle smiled at me. "Each of us in attendance today has seen the best of them, and the worst of them, and the mending in between. Each of us knows that the tie between them runs deeper than any of us can begin to fathom. And each of us has watched them grow; Edward, from a moody teenage boy to a gentleman of incomparable sincerity and love; Bella, a shy girl who tripped over air to a woman of wisdom and strength," A light laugh riveted the gathering along with the lullaby that pulsed gently. Edward gripped my hands more firmly, his eyes smoldering with love. I felt a blush creep on my cheeks behind my veil; the blushing bride. "Edward, would you read your personal vows to Bella?"

Edward lifted his hands from mine to reach into his breast pocket, pulling out a small ivory envelope and opened it. He tentatively raised his eyes to meet mine, as his lips parted to speak.

It was then that I became fearfully aware of the tall shadow sitting in the crowd, watching me with sharp eyes. I tried my hardest to mask the panic that crashed into me from Jacob's presence; but it was too late because Jasper took notice. I saw him tense out of the corner of my eye and, in a flicker, I saw him and Rosalie's glances meet in worry. My eyes closed to calm myself and pass it off as a thrill of emotion.

"Isabella Marie Swan; Bella," Edward began in a slow, deliberate breath. I didn't even know what Jasper or Rosalie was thinking, but I hoped in the pit of my stomach that he wasn't concentrating on their thoughts. "From the very beginning, in that fateful Biology classroom, you were completely irresistible to me. Every time I look into those big, beautiful brown eyes of yours, I'm thrown under that spell of yours," That beautiful smile of his elegantly fell across his lips. "Bella, from this day forward, I will always be yours. Nothing will drive me away from you; nothing will test my love for you. I already know the terrible reality of life without you and, quite frankly Miss Swan, I would rather die than suffer that again," I expected him to grimace, but the burning in his eyes only intensified. "I promise that I will never leave your side and I will be your protector; nothing and no one will ever hurt you again. You are mine, and I am yours."

I felt a lump catch in my throat as he made his last promise of protection. A small spring of tears slipped over my eyes that he clearly took as happiness. But what he didn't know was that it was because he hadn't protected me from pain so far. At least, not the worst kind. Edward had always kept me from danger, but not this time. And the worst part, the part that ripped through me each time I came face to face with it, was that he had no idea that he had failed at it.

Edward reached a shaking hand underneath my veil to wipe the tears from my cheeks. I watched his mouth quiver slightly with what would have been tears like mine if he could cry. A wisp of his bronze hair fell in his face as a weakened and humbled smile came over him, accompanied by a chorus of endearing sighs from the congregation.

"Bella, would you read yours to Edward?" Carlisle asked when I had stopped crying.

I nodded, and opened my envelope, holding the roses in my other hand. I glanced up at Edward who was looking at me like I was a treasure. I blushed yet again. "Edward Anthony Masen Cullen," His long name fluttered from me, making me smile. Alice had advised me to use his full name. "I know I've done some stupid and dangerous things since we've known each other, but I think that had I not, we wouldn't be standing here together. I think it's like they've always told us about the most beautiful dawn coming after the darkest night," I lifted my eyes only briefly, but long enough to see the intensity in his eyes. "Without you, I've realized I'm not who I am, and that's because we complete each other in a way that is lost to most people," After listening to Edward's vows, mine felt suddenly weak and too short—but I had expected that. A blemishing blush swept my cheeks; I heard Edward's small laugh at my nervousness. "Edward, I want nothing more than to be only yours, and I'm offering that to you today in front of the people we love."

When Carlisle saw that I'd finished my vows, he looked over at Jasper. "Would you give the rings to Bella and Edward, Jasper?"

With a slight nod, Jasper stepped from behind Edward and next to Carlisle as he extracted the rings from his pocket. The simple gold band for Edward was suddenly clasped in the hand I'd held the bouquet in, which was now in Alice's hands. I looked at Edward and saw him holding my ring in between his slender fingers.

"Bella?" Carlisle looked at me, smiling patiently at my evident anxiety. My eyes lifted to him. "Would you repeat after me?" I nodded. A smile crept across Carlisle's face, as well as Edward's. "'Edward, with this ring, I promise to love you forever—every single day of forever.'"

I swallowed my tears as I took his cold hand, which was shaking; I didn't dare look up at him. "Edward," I began, my voice wavering. "With this ring," The words were stronger, my voice lifting with my eyes. "I promise to love you forever—every single day of forever." And I slipped the ring on his finger, sealing my love.

"And you, Edward?" Carlisle asked as Edward took my hand in his.

He smiled at his father and then looked back at me, his eyes melted into liquid fire. "Isabella," His voice distinctly cracked. "With this ring, I promise to love you forever—every single day of forever." The words slipped the delicate ring on my finger, holding my hand tightly thereafter.

A silence lingered for a few moments. But in that time, I read something new in Edward's gold eyes—something that frightened me. I couldn't pinpoint the emotion like I usually could, but it made my thumping heart rise into near panic mode. In that quiet moment, I knew he had heard Jasper or Rosalie's concerned thoughts for me. The question burned in his gaze.

It faded, though, when Carlisle spoke again. "Ladies and gentlemen," his smooth voice began. "I'm deeply honored to present Edward and Isabella Cullen to each of you."

With the applause that followed moments after that, I felt two very different things.

The first, and definitely most prominent, was Edward's fingertips as he lifted the veil and pulled me into a gentle yet passionate kiss, his hand tucked under my jaw. A million images flashed through my head (sitting in Biology class, seeing one another in Italy, and his eyes through his long lashes as he proposed to me) when he kissed me, but one lingered. In the spring sun, I saw a small girl with gold hair twirling in a meadow—our meadow—with an ivory dress lifting at her legs. A smile lifted my lips against his kiss as I wondered who she was…

And the second was a hard, frightening gaze that crushed me from the second Edward's lips touched mine and intensified until we pulled away from one another. I looked in the direction of the burning glare and saw Jacob as he moved behind the small gathering to leave.

When I started to cry from the fear, I felt a new set of arms wrap around me from behind. Alice.

"Bella," she began, her voice a low breath in my ear. "When we go to change you into your party dress, you're due for some talking."

----------

"Honestly, she's an emotional mess!"

"Jasper…"

"Alice, if you could understand the ambivalence I'm getting from her, you'd say the same thing."

In Alice's bathroom, I sat at the vanity's bench in my white gown-like dress for the reception, my hands angrily gripping the thin material. Alice and Jasper argued over me like I wasn't there; this only made my fuming worse.

"Bella," Jasper was suddenly in my face, with Alice behind him, gripping his forearm in warning. "You _must_ tell us."

I swallowed in an attempt to clear my dry throat. "It's nothing…"

Jasper sighed; I had never seen him angry, but I was assuming this was it. "I might not be able to read one's thoughts like Edward can, but it is blatantly obvious that _something is wrong_," His last three words were drilling and persuasive. "Your heart screams trauma."

"And even if we weren't vampires and we didn't have these abilities," Alice cut in. "Your entire demeanor indicates it."

"Is it something to do with Jacob?" Jasper's words were calm and collected, yet pressing. "I felt such hostility from him during the ceremony that you seemed to react to each time."

They were getting too terribly close to my secret. I couldn't go back on my promise to Jacob. It wasn't a matter of me owing him that, it was a matter of my life and wanting to stay alive. I felt my fingers turn white as I pulled at the dress, trying to claw myself out of this corner.

"It is," Alice's voice rang with no emotion, just a blank chime. Jasper and I looked at her, the familiar empty expression sprawled across her doll-like features. "I can't see anything… it's all gone…" She suddenly pulled out of her trance and looked at me, her perfect eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "Bella, tell me. No matter what it is, we will swear to protect you and love you."

"I… I can't…" my words sputtered out through tearless sobs. They had me…

"Why not?" Alice was kneeling in front of me, subtly shifting Jasper out of the way. She held my hands, stroking my left hand's ring finger.

I swallowed a throb of hyperventilation and shook my head. "He'll… he'll hurt me…" Alice leaned in, asking me to press on. "Jacob will…"

"No, he won't," she said, shaking her head, her gold eyes gleaming with sadness. "We're here and we promise to keep you from any harm."

My lips were pulled tight as I diverted my eyes to my lap, concentrating on her alabaster hands and my shaky fingers. Alice lowered her head to look at my face, no doubt trying to search it. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh, only to find my secret being filtered out.

"He raped me."

It happened quite slowly, like time had stopped. Alice's hands loosened their hold, like she was touching something she hadn't realized she wasn't meant to touch. A hand rose to her mouth as she broke into silent sobbing. I looked up and saw Jasper with his eyes closed, hurt webbing his forehead.

"Oh, Bella…" Alice pulled me into her arms, stroking my hair. "Are you alright? Why didn't you tell us?"

"He threatened me."

Jasper stepped closer, clearing the emotion out of his throat. "With what?"

"He told me that he would… he would kill me," the words were vague and hard to say. I couldn't believe I'd told. I felt inexplicably released to say the words to someone, and not my mirror or a wall when I would cry from the hurt that had been building up in me. Though I knew that once I'd told Alice and Jasper, Edward would soon find out. A shiver scattered through me at the thought of that. I could imagine him, seething rage and screaming at me for not telling him…

"You must tell Edward," Jasper whispered. He noticed my blanching cheeks. "If you don't, and he finds out by reading our thoughts, it's going to be worse than you can imagine."

"Not tonight, please…" I begged, gripping Alice's fingers. My eyes flooded with pleading tears. "I just want it to be him and me tonight… I don't want him to be mad at me…"

Alice kissed my cheek. "He won't be mad at you…"

I looked up at the two skeptically. "It's true," Jasper said. "He was pretty… tense after the wedding, though he would never admit that. I had accidentally let my concern slip through my thoughts to him. I know he's anxious to talk to me about it."

I leaned away from Alice and looked down at my hands in hers, trying to even imagine telling it to Edward. I'm sure the biggest part of my reluctance was that I was scared of hurting him and possibly losing him. I was foolish to believe Jacob's story about the treaty…

Before long, I was in hysterical tears in Alice's arms again, shaking and sobbing. It was like the fire had been reset, only this time to begin healing. It still burned and singed me, but the after effects of it were various degrees of peace and release. Jasper stood on the outskirts of us, holding my shoulder in comfort. I only hoped Edward wasn't close enough to hear me and sense what was happening. The small vampire rocked me in her arms and running her fingers through my curled hair.

"It hurt so much… it still does…" I gasped.

"Shh, Bella," she whispered. "I know it does… but it will be okay. Be strong. Don't you know we're here for you?" She pulled back a little and held my left hand between our faces. "You already have a tangible promise of that right here," A small smile stretched on her face. "Are you going to be able to make it to the reception? It won't last very long."

With the most strength I could pull from the ashes of my hurt, I stood to my feet with two of the most important people in my life watching me. I checked my face in the mirror to see that Rosalie's artwork hadn't rinsed off, smiled at Alice, and made my way to my family and friends.

----------

Edward gently closed the front door of his mansion behind him, a tempting smile playing his perfect lips. A lock of auburn hair fell into his eyes as he moved to close the space between us. "That was the last of everyone," he breathed into my ear. "We'll be all to ourselves until tomorrow."

"Mm, I can hardly wait," I said as he ran his mouth on my throat.

His hands shook as he pulled me into his arms. "You won't have to…" I felt him sweep me up the stairs, and slower down the hallway to his room. He stopped abruptly outside of his bedroom, my back pressed lightly to the wall. I felt his arms on either side of me, his fingers woven through my hair. A clear hunger burned in his eyes, as he searched my face before bringing his lips to mine. His body pressed against mine in a way that stopped my breathing, his mouth pulling a moan from me.

Edward gasped as he moved his lips from mine and pressed his cheek against mine. "Listen to yourself, Bella," his voice was rough and uneven. "I can hardly stand not having you…"

I forced myself to pull a sentence of necessity together. "May I have a human moment before…?"

"Of course," his voice quivered against my skin before he pulled back. "Don't keep to yourself, though."

"What do you mean?"

Edward laughed a throaty laugh as he disappeared into his bedroom. "I'll be waiting for our wedding night, my Bella."

And then I was alone with my heart.


	7. Breakdown

_I've really been taking my time on this chapter. Not to torture my lovely, beautiful, amazing readers, but to make sure that this chapter is written correctly. I've changed it quite a bit since I first wrote it, and I've actually had one part of it sitting on my hard drive since I started it! This was a very difficult chapter to write; not because I had nothing to say, but there were so many ways to say it, I wasn't sure which one was the best. I think after this, things might go M. I don't know._

_I'm so appreciative and in debt to each of you who was faithfully read and reviewed up until this point! Thank you so much and I love you all. _

_**Music: **Limousine (MS Rebridge) - Brand New. Got off my Blue October high for at least one chapter... This song is just so sad but it's so beautiful. _

* * *

**"Breakdown"**

Of course, I was just as excited as Edward was for our wedding night. I tried to focus my mind on this, but my confession to Alice and Jasper kept wafting through my mind. It felt so wonderful to finally tell someone about it, to open my heart and release all that agony that I had been dealing with… for a week? It felt like so much longer—decades, centuries—but when I really thought about it, I knew it was only a week.

I hadn't been in Edward's bathroom all day. There were various articles of clothing scattered around; this had clearly been the men's dressing room. I laughed a little at the thought of the Cullens getting ready together and the chaos that that must have been.

After changing out of my dress and into a dark blue lingerie dress (as suggested and provided by Alice and Rosalie), I studied the mirror with increasing interest in my own reflection.

I quietly began to wonder about Carlisle's angel theory.

My fingers lightly touched my long blonde hair as I thought about the possibilities. Would I still be able to be around Edward, around the Cullens? Or would that attained holiness drive them off? A conflicting voice quickly drove that thought into the gutter; Carlisle had mentioned that it would be _good_ for them if I was an angel, but I didn't know what that meant. Would I be the same person, or would I be whisked off to live an eternal life in heaven? I quickly decided that a life without Edward was a life lost, even in heaven. My heaven was with Edward and no place would ever replace that truth.

To be honest, the entire idea set me off. It had come out of nowhere and while the Cullens always told me that I seemed hardly affected by catastrophic events, this one made me draw back. What if I didn't _want _to be an angel? What exactly would that mean?

But it wasn't like I would have any choice. I was already afraid that it was already in motion. And this made me a little frustrated.

Scanning the countertop, I saw a pair of silver scissors lying on the white marble. My fingers blankly traced the cold metal, gripping them. Why were they so terribly tempting?

I glared at my reflection, that blonde hair that I had tried to ignore for so long.

Well, if I can't control my hair color, then the length of my hair will be another story…

It was kind of an out of body experience as I stood in front of that mirror, the scissors cutting through my hair with ease. I had never cut my own hair, but at this point, I didn't really care. If it turned out to be a terrible problem, I could have someone fix it for me. And if my hair had grown back out by morning, then I might just scream.

"Bella, what…?"

I spun around to see Edward standing in the bathroom door, critically watching me. Half of his face was bemused and the other half was quiet anger. I felt my lips curve in a weak smile as the scissors slipped from my fingers and landed in a pillow of my cut hair.

"Oops…" I breathed, the thought of the scissors fluttering through my mind.

But they had disappeared from the sink where they had landed. I frantically looked around and saw Edward inches from my face, the scissors in his long hands. Sighing, I held out my hand. "Give them to me. I'm not done."

Edward stared at me with a blank mixture of concern and bewilderment. We watched each other for a long moment before I felt his cold fingertips trace my jaw, brush along my cheek, trace my hairline, and comb through my hair, falling short just at my jaw. His fingers continued to run the course along my face over and over. His lips parted and a faint smile glowed on his ivory skin.

"What did you do, love?"

"I cut my hair."

His lips brushed my ear and an unwelcome shiver shook me. "That much is evident. But why?"

I turned to face the mirror in an attempt to regain my thoughts, his hands set below my jaw, his thumb rubbing my cheek. My reflection wasn't bad, but it certainly took even me by surprise. My paper blonde hair frightened me nearly every time and my haircut struck me even more. I brushed my fingers against the uneven tips of my hair"I figured if I can't control my hair color, then I'm going to control how long it is."

Edward's eyes lit up with a distant laugh, but it was soon extinguished by a somber mask. "Bella, are you… okay?"

An exasperated yet unconvincing sigh slipped through my teeth. It couldn't happen tonight, of all nights. "I'm fine. I… just… I wanted to do this."

It was burning in me to tell him about Jacob, of what he did to me—I had so easily and quickly told Jasper and Alice earlier. But I was absolutely terrified of his reaction, of what he would do to Jacob or even me. A black hole gaped open beneath me every time I thought of what happened, threatening to swallow me alive…

"Talk to me, Bella," I was suddenly hyperaware of Edward, gripping my face and reaching deep into my eyes with his. My eyes, heavy with suppressed tears, averted from his too quickly. And he caught onto this. "You're acting so different lately. Something has happened to you."

I didn't answer, too ashamed and too afraid.

His fingers tightened on my cheek—his eyes burned mine—his cool breath overtook mine—and I collapsed to the tile floor, frightened and shaking and trapped.

Because for a terrifying moment, Edward was Jacob.

"No, please don't… don't touch… me…"

"Bella," his voice, trying to stay even, cracked under his stress. He sat on the cold tile, afraid to even touch me. I looked up, trying to get my thoughts out of the forest and back to the present. He looked as pained as the last time I'd been upset about Jacob Black. "Bella, tell me what's wrong."

I forced myself to sit up, the world spinning out from underneath me as Edward's solid eyes studied me. I felt a sliver of tears on my eyelashes as the memories came back in a violent surge when I thought I might be fine for a little longer.

The crying, of course, didn't help Edward's impatient anxiety. He held back with clearly as much strength as he had, but his eyes were pushing me to continue with all that restrained force.

I had to tell him now. There was no way to play off this breakdown.

My legs were curled against my chest as I rocked back and forth, trying to breathe and function. I felt Edward's pleading gaze search my face as I crept to him, settling myself in his lap. His arms encircled me and, oddly, warmed me and comforted me.

"Will you talk to me, Bella? Please?" he whispered in my ear.

My eyes closed as his finger traced the contours of my face. I didn't realize that I had been holding my breath until he had touched me, unraveling my lungs into a chortled cough.

I didn't even know where to begin…

"I went to La Push last week," was the best I could preface with. "When… when I went to go see Charlie…"

Edward's breath caught in his throat, his voice warning. "Bella…"

I nuzzled into his neck. "I know, I know… but I _had_ to go…"

"Why?"

"Jacob wanted to talk about negotiating the treaty…" The trap Jacob had set sounded so foolish each time I looked back on it. I had been an idiot.

Edward rigidly straightened himself, his fingertips tensing against my cheek. "But he doesn't have the authority to do that."

"Please, Edward," I pleaded helplessly. "I know… I know, it was dumb for me to do, I was stupid for even believing it…"

The words caught in my throat the moment I said them. I sensed Edward pick up on the meaning. His touch became weightless to me as he struggled to make sense of what I'd said. "Believing it?" His words were weak and nearly hoarse. His fingers directed my face to meet his eyes, dark gold and horrified. "Tell me what happened in La Push right now, Bella."

I broke out into sobs. I couldn't do it. "Edward… don't make me…"

Edward suddenly lifted me and had us facing one another, my legs on either side of him as he gripped my shoulders. How had he not figured it out on his own? How had he not put the pieces together? "You are absolutely _terrifying_ me, Bella."

"You'll hate me…" I whimpered.

Edward drew me closer to him, his eyes hurting and frightened. "I would never hate you. Nothing conceivable or imaginable could ever make me hate you."

His words sunk into me as I absorbed them, dissecting their meaning. I collapsed into his arms, catching my breath and assembling my thoughts. The words burned in me, begging to be announced. But I wasn't ready for the repercussions, the pain I would undoubtedly face from him…

I nestled my face in the crook of his neck, his long fingers tracing my back. "I'm begging you, Bella."

A stray tear slipped down my cheek as I breathed against his neck, building up the words that were right in front of me. I tried to push the words over, but it was like they were cemented in my throat, gagging me. My mouth opened several times, exerting a choked sound. Edward leaned forward, begging me to say something.

"Edward…" my voice was thick with all the hurt Jacob Black had ever made me feel. "He… he raped me, Edward…"

Time and space and the universe seemed to come to a silent and deadly crash around us. Edward didn't push me away like I'd expected, nor did he hold me as close as possible, sobbing tearless sobs against me. There was no hate and there was no sorrow.

There was just silence. And the silence was killing me.

Each breath with each second became heavier and thicker with my fear that I was having small tremors in his arms. I felt him press me closer to him, but his thoughts were lost to me.

When I thought I was dreaming, that I had caught myself in another delusion of mine, the breakdown hit me like a brick in my back.

Edward's iron grip tightened on me, his face buried in my neck. An unsteady breath crashed against my skin; at first it was a single rush of air, but it soon escalated into uneven, shaken breaths that broke my heart. His ice cold fingers gently dug into my shoulders and back, pressing me closer to him. He rocked gently from side to side and buried his face into my hair, but still didn't speak a word. I sat still as tears silently brimmed over onto his white shirt, letting him hold onto me.

"Oh, Bella," his voice was hoarse with anguish. "Why… why didn't you tell me?" His iron grip tightened around me as his shoulder shook. "God dammit, Bella, why didn't you _say_ something?!"

"Please don't yell," I cried as I tried to push myself away from him.

Edward pressed his face in my neck again, shaking his head. "I'm so sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to… but would you tell me why?"

I choked on my tears, my fingers gripping his shirt sleeve. "I was scared to… I didn't know what you'd say and he threatened to…" The words were ridiculously difficult to say. "To kill me if I told anyone."

Edward pulled me to face him, his eyes desperately searching my face for answers to unspoken questions. His brow was creased in hurt that was worse than any kind I had seen before as he cradled my face in his hand. "What I would have said?" He whispered angrily. "You were _raped_," The word was coarse in his velvet voice. "My Bella, I would never abandon you because of… of that. I am here right now and I will always be here," His hands were desperately cupping mine, his features contorted in utter pain. "I love you, and nothing will ever change that." He leaned forward, gauging my reaction to his closeness, and gently pressed his lips against mine.

"I love you, too, Edward," I breathed between kisses.

He pulled away, our noses touching and our fingers intertwined. "Are you alright? I want you to talk about this… it has been a week…"

I shook my head; not tonight. My emotions were unbearably raw from talking so much about it already. "I don't want to talk about it tonight, Edward," I said. "I've already talked enough about it Jasper and Alice…"

"You told Jasper and Alice?" He said, his brow tightening.

"Yes, but they pretty much had me cornered and then pulled it out of me," I said quietly, looking down in shame. I was terrified of the assumptions Edward was probably making, that I trusted his brother and sister more than I trusted him. "I'm sorry, Edward, but I was so scared…"

Edward reached out and gently cradled my cheek in his cold, large hands. He was smiling my favorite smile as he stroked my cheek with his thumb. "It's alright, Bella. I can understand why."

I tightened my fingers around his neck. "But please, Edward, I don't want tonight—our wedding night—to be in reaction to Jacob Black."

Edward laughed fondly at the words he had said to me once, but his smile straightened. "Are you sure you still want to…" I'm sure that if he had the ability to blush, red roses would be blooming on his perfect cheeks. "Do you still want to make love tonight, Bella?"

"Of course I do," I whispered. "Tonight is _our_ night. Not a night to discuss Jacob or our souls or whatever happens to come up," I tried a laugh. "Tonight belongs to us."

Edward kissed me again. "Do you promise to talk about it tomorrow?"

I nodded; despite the part in me that didn't, I really _did_ want to tell him about it, release it to the one person I loved more than my own life. "I do, Edward. I swear that I will," I paused momentarily. "But please be nice about it. Don't yell at me…"

He released a small passionate sigh after a moment, his voice low. "I will, love. I promise to listen," my favorite smile melted from his lips, replaced by a terrifying scowl. "I can't promise the same courtesy for that dog, though," He held his head in his hand, angry. He murmured something darkly.

"Shh, Edward," I said, pulling my arms around his neck. "Please, don't focus on that now…"

It was clearly too late, though. "But, Bella," he began, his voice pleading and cracking. "He _hurt_ you. He has taken away your most precious gift and then has the nerve to appear at your wedding?" The hate seethed through his teeth. "I can't let him get away with this. None of us can."

"I just don't want him to hurt you or anyone…" I said quietly into his neck.

Edward kissed the side of my throat. "Don't be concerned, love. I'm a capable vampire who knows how to take care of the woman he loves."

He scooped me up into his arms, standing to his feet in the large bathroom. My legs dangled on either side of him, his cold fingers supporting me on the underside of my bare thighs. I blushed as his finger stroked my skin. "This conversation isn't over," he murmured in my ear, my eyelids drifting over my vision to the sound of his voice. When I could see again, we were in his bedroom, a quiet acoustic and piano song lilting in the background, gold candles lofting in the darkness. "But I can forget about it for one night if you would like me to."

Edward's cold fingers jolted me as they traced along the lace of my undergarment, pressing for me. I struggled past the gasp, fighting for words. "I would like for you to."

We fell back against the soft bed, his hand playing along my waist under the small gown. His eyes burned mine to the point that I could barely stand it. My hands pressed against his chest, roaming down his stomach and resting on his hips. A low growl smoldered in his chest as he pressed his mouth against my neck.

"Then so be it."

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_Read._

_Review._

_Please? I love you. _


	8. Perfect

_"Oh. My. God. It's about time, woman." That's probably each of your thoughts as you saw that this story was updated! My apologies... sometimes life takes its turns and I get swamped or I just simply can't write. This was a hard chapter and it isn't exactly my favorite one. I hope it pleases you guys, though._

I'm so grateful for each of you who take to review, add this story (and myself) as a favorite, get alerts on updates, and those that just read it. It thrills me when I check my inbox and see so many different responses.

**Music:** 18th Floor Balcony/It's Just Me - Blue October, The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows - Brand New. I love them. Particularly Brand New.

* * *

"Perfect"

I tried my hardest to concentrate on the angel that was kissing me, hovering inches from my face. I tried my hardest to pull myself from the forest and the fire, to root myself in the candlelit bedroom. I tried my hardest to be Isabella Marie Cullen.

But, again, my images floated into view like dead leaves in a pond.

I saw the Cullen family in a dark clearing in a forest, talking yet hardly moving. While I never heard anything before in my visions, the same three words, slurred yet frighteningly distinct, repeated like a mantra—_Bella was raped. She was raped. Jacob raped Bella._ It was a quiet whisper, ironically on the verge of soothing. The only movement was when Esme looked down, covering her face as Rosalie stood to her feet and disappeared into the dark…

Charlie's kitchen blurred into view, the light separating itself from the dark. I was able to make out the shapes of Charlie and Renee sitting together at his small kitchen table. My father sat silent and unmoving as my mother mutedly spoke, her hands fluttering in the open space between the two. Charlie began to talk, but his mouth didn't move with the words I heard. _I'm sorry…_

A dark, bleak beach came into view, the smoky moon reflected half heartedly in the ocean's glassy surface. The beach saturated my vision, making me unaware of the silhouette that was standing on the shoreline. I only noticed him, Jacob, when he lifted his arms to his side in a sign of surrender. I was soon facing him, his eyes closed and his features smooth with dangerous, invisible thoughts. His eyes snapped open to reveal the dark and wild look that pulsed desperately in his eyes. A silent scream contorted his mouth and I distantly heard his scream, like he was shouting down at me from the top of a skyscraper…

I forced myself back into reality; these weird visions weren't going to ruin the best night of my life. I wasn't going to let it.

Edward was gently straddling my waist, sitting up as he studied me. A deep, indecipherably look swam in his topaz eyes ran across my body. A deep blush crept across my cheeks and neck. His critical gaze melted away to be replaced by a soft, smoldering one. The jolt of his cold hands tracing my hops and stomach drew a sharp gasp from me. He bit his perfect lip in longing. "Bella…"

"Edward…" I gasped through my uneven breaths.

A small yearning smile appeared across his parted lips, opened as if he was about to say something. Instead, he lifted me off the bed and held me against his chest. His cold nose pressed against my collarbone, his Arctic breath pleasantly chilling my skin. A small, gasping moan slipped through me and into Edward's soft bronze hair. "Are you frightened?" He gently asked me.

I shook my head, pulling myself closer against his hard chest. "I'm not."

His hands strayed to my waist to painfully separate our touch for a moment as he lifted the thin blue fabric that covered me, removing it like a delicate and sacred veil. If at all possible, my blush deepened and his eyes lingered on my body, my bra and panties quietly censoring the more private parts of me. His gaze reminded me of a master sculptor who had just perfected his masterpiece—though I wasn't a masterpiece, not in my eyes. The low candlelight illuminated him from behind, transforming his bronze hair into a golden halo. His skin radiated inches from mine. He was glorious… too glorious to be mine.

A shiver pulled me back to his touch when he grazed my waist with his shaking fingers. I looked up at him, his eyes lit with sincerity and innocence. "What did I do to deserve you, Bella love?" he murmured, shaking his head. "I don't deserve such an angel who so freely offers herself to me like you do…"

I touched my palm to his cheek. "Don't say that. _I _don't deserve _you_."

"Mm," Edward purred into my ear, his fingers dancing up my back to the metal hooks. "Silly angel of mine," his fingers undid the catch, sending electricity throughout my body. He slipped his hands underneath the thin material, moving his hands to my sides as he slowly removed my bra. "You deserve the world," With a quick yet graceful movement, it disappeared. His eyes held mine, a finger pressed against my lips. "Don't you dare try to argue that with me."

As he kissed me, I slowly slipped his white shirt off, smoothing my hot and shaky hands over his cold back. I felt our bodies moving together as the fabric drifted away into the darkness, the noiseless light lifting it from our fingertips. He moved slowly and lightly, his touch weightless.

We lay in silence for a few moments, our odd and uneven breathing vaguely disappearing around us. Edward pressed his face into my neck, a cold breath flooding my skin.

I could feel myself slipping away from reality and pain as he ran his lips along the contours of my body, like sand through a child's fingers. I was never not aware of Edward's perfect touch, but rather unaware of the world that encased us. Even the music and light faded away, becoming nothing more than an abstraction. Small sounds escaped me as he searched me, careful yet passionate.

"Bella?" Edward's voice was low and smoldering. Pulling myself from my inner pleasure, I looked into his eyes, pressing into mine. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. Language had escaped me.

His crooked smile brightened his features, as he kissed me gently. I was suddenly aware of his pressure that seemed to pulse between my legs, asking for entrance. "Are you sure, Bella?" He whispered into my ear. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you…"

Again, the best my body could manage was the small movement of my head. Edward cradled my face in his hands to bring it to his, kissing me deeply. I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain that every woman had told about, subconsciously pressing my head in the pillow as my fingers the clutched his marble back.

Slowly, I felt the sharp ache envelope my body. I would have almost preferred that he done it hard and quickly, so that the pain didn't creep through me, choking the scream out of me the way it had.

Edward stopped his movement as I trembled beneath him. He stroked my face, his breathing uneven. Then, I felt his body melt into mine, the reality of the two of us as one truly settling in. A small, breathy sigh fell from me as the pain dissolved into pleasure. He smiled slightly, gently pushing the rest of him into me.

Balanced between crying and a moan, he pressed his forehead against mine, his cool breath filling my mouth. "Bella…" he breathed. "Oh, my Bella…"

Kissing him, I pulled myself closer to him, begging with my body for him to go on. He softly drew away as he lifted my legs to twine them around his waist. Gently, he pulled himself out, and we slowly found a rhythm to which we moved. I could hear my breathing that slowly grew into a quiet cry of pleasure against his moaning.

This… this was different that what Jacob had tortured me with.

_This is perfect_. I thought as one last scream fluttered from my mouth.

----------

In my dreams that night, when I had finally allowed sleep to take me prisoner, I suffered a nightmare. Though I couldn't quite remember it, bits flickered into my consciousness.

I was back in the forest, witnessing my rape from the thick of the forest. Fluttering like a tiny bird caught in the prowl of a cat, I watched myself scream and cry against his force. I wept, rooted in place like every tree that had stood by as my punishment took place…

Another cry replaced mine, this time behind me. Frantically, I spun around and saw my Edward in a small, sunlit clearing, his skin glittering. While my crying had been in the memory of my hurt, his was in rage and hatred. I listened, struck with shock, as he spun around to face me, roaring out words as he raged in the direction of Jacob's crime.

Then I fell, my legs buckling beneath me. Sets of hot, familiar hands groped me as I was falling in a rush of forestry, ripping everything I held precious from my body to throw it away. I tried screaming, and found that it came out as nothing…

Soon, I was being cradled in a golden light, soothing me and restoring me. A small voice came closer from the distance, yet growing as it came closer to me. At first, the words were slur of happy music, but they took form and meaning.

"I'm here, mother… Look at me!"

----------

My eyes flickered open and I saw a misty morning flooding through the window wall. As my eyes gained recognition, I noticed Edward watching me with heart wrenchingly worried eyes.

"Bella…?"

I held my head, remembering the dream. "Uh-huh?"

"Did you have a nightmare?" His delicate voice was ridden with pain.

The images hit me hard as I calculated my answer. "I think so."

"You were screaming."

My face blanched and I could only imagine what I'd said, or rather cried. "What happened? What did I say? It was bad, wasn't it?"

Edward cradled my face in his hands. "I've never felt so helpless in my entire life. Never," he repeated through a sob. "It was as if… as if I was there when he did those horrible, wretched things to you… And the only thing I could do was sit there as if I was _allowing _it to happen…"

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, my heart severely aching.

"Don't be sorry, love," he said, anguish in his features. His fingers traced my cheek. "I won't settle for this anymore."

I tensed. "What do you mean?"

"Jacob isn't going to be allowed to live like this never happened," I felt such a menacing promise in his words, a strange and unreasonable terror rose in the pit of my stomach. His eyes, fading from melted topaz to hard obsidian, floated past my head to study other things. "No, not when he was taken away something that belongs to _me_."

I blushed at his sudden dominance, my words lost from my lips. We sat in silence, him in raging contemplation, and I in blank thought. Edward drifted back to me, his eyes lingering on my face. As he smiled gently at me, I remembered what had happened last night. And while it was beautiful and certainly made it on my top ten best nights, I blushed deeply and pulled the black sheets closer around me.

Edward, with a velvet laugh, swept me into his arms and kissed me, clutching my back and pressing me into him. After moments that slipped past my control, he drew away, tracing my cheek with his cold fingers. "You have gifted me with the most beautiful treasure in the world," he crooned. "Don't be ashamed of yourself, love."

I pulled myself closer to him, resting my head right below his chin. His fingers idly ran down my back, pleasantly chilling me. I planted a kiss on his collarbone. "When is your family going to be back?"

"_Our_ family," he gently corrected. "Should be home this evening."

"What are we going to do until then?"

"I was considering visiting our meadow," Edward began, running his fingers through my knotted hair. "Or if you'd like, we can stay here."

I rolled over from him, lying on my back. He laughed as I faked thought. It was no use; he knew the meadow was my weak spot. Forgetting my own bareness, I sat up and kissed Edward, who was propped up on his elbow. "Should I go change?"

"Not quite yet," Edward said as he pressed me back onto the bed, his arms on either side of my head. "We still have all morning…"

I surrendered myself to him once more, and as I did, I heard the same small, beckoning voice calling. "I'm here, mother… Look at me!"

Though I knew I would never have children, I would never raise a family, I played with the thought of having a child of my own. It was like teasing my own heart, I knew that, but when I thought about it, it didn't hurt like it should have.

I let myself slip into Edward and away from the tragedies I'd faced and the triumphs I might never come to.

* * *

_I love reviews. They are a thing of beauty. Hehe. _

Next chapter may be a bit of a crazy one... stay tuned.

I love you!


	9. Knowing

_So. I'm not dead. I've felt terrible about not updating for however long I didn't update, but I suffered a serious writer's block. I rewrote this chapter several times, and I ultimately ended up with this, which was the very first version I wrote. Funny how things work, huh?_

_This chapter is VERY long. I'm talking, 12 pages according to the Word document. The past chapters have been around 5 pages. So, you can see what I mean. But I'm telling you: you want to read this. It answers just about every question I think people have asked. I considered breaking it into 3 different chapters, but I figured you all deserved a long chapter for your wait. Again, I apologize. I'm back in the swing of things and chapter 10 will be up soon._

_**Music:** Room of Angel - Akira Yamaoka (if you have played Silent Hill 4, this is that eerie music in the trailer... I love SH)_

* * *

**"Knowing"**

As Edward drove us down the road toward the meadow, I felt completely renewed. I smiled to myself as I watched the trees whip by through the tinted window, Edward's hand twined in my own. Music swam through the car, mostly Edward's newfound musical interests. He watched me from time to time, but stayed quiet. I knew that today he would ask questions, that today I would have to open up.

I felt Edward's cold hand graze my neck, running his hand up into my short whitening hair. When I looked over at him, he was smiling. "You're so silly sometimes…"

"Am I?" I asked, blushing, hoping that he wouldn't mock me for my snap hair decision. He raised a perfect eyebrow and blew a laugh out. I laughed, too, knowing he was probably right. "I guess so."

"Well, I suppose now I prefer blondes…" he said in mock defeat as he turned his eyes back to the road. I saw him glance out of the corner of his eyes, still smiling. "I think you're beautiful either way."

I sighed heavily and blushed just as much.

Edward laughed loudly. "Oh, get used to it, Bella," his voice was lilting as he joked. "You've got an eternity of it coming your way."

Of course, I couldn't help but laugh with him. It also softened my heart, easing the anxiety of our imminent conversation, knowing that I really _did_ have an eternity with Edward. I tightened my grip on his hand, smiling when my ring winked in the sunlight.

"Is it really this easy to be _married_?" I asked, incredulously.

He looked back at me, curiosity replacing the joke. "What do you mean?"

I shrugged. Ahead, I saw our usual parking place patiently waiting for us. "I mean, I was scared," he snorted and rolled his eyes. "_You_ of anyone would know that, right?"

Edward laughed sardonically, nodding his head enthusiastically. "Right."

"But this…" I lifted our linked hands. "_This_ is effortless. I'm not scared and I don't feel… trapped."

He smiled at me as he reluctantly released my hand, stepping out of the car. His hair fell in his eyes as he ducked to talk to me. "Do you have any idea how happy that makes me?" Before I was aware, the driver's door was shut and my door was open, Edward holding out a hand to help me from the car. I took it, and he pulled me into his arms, his cold lips pressed into my hair. "Do you have any idea how perfect it has made me to have you?"

I extracted myself carefully from his arms and rose on my tiptoes to delicately kiss him on the lips. "I think I could say the same."

Edward broadened his smile. "Come on," he said. "Let's go to our meadow."

I always felt kind of childish when he would crouch down and I'd climb onto his back, like I used to do to Charlie when I was a little girl. His hair fluttered against my cheeks as he lithely bounded through the trees. The sky was delicately dark, deep stratus clouds curtaining the sky. I tightened my hold around his neck and closed my eyes.

The meadow was void of the flowers that had flooded the open space a few months ago, replaced by tall faded green grass, which brushed against my calves as we walked to the middle of the meadow. I wore a white sundress that Alice had requested I wear at one point or another, and Edward dressed me in.

He pulled me into his arms and sat the two of us down in the grass. I was resting against his chest, his fingers moving across my neck and back. The dark sky swirled gently over us, though the air was saturated with the warm air of an impending storm.

"Love?" Edward lifted my chin tenderly, making me look him in the eyes. They were deep, dark gold that stretched on for miles, searching and probing. "Will you tell me now?"

I knew immediately what he wanted to hear. Though I tried to pull away and look down in shame, his cold hands held my face firmly. I sighed. "I… I don't know where to start…"

"Was it on the day that Charlie called and asked you to come home?" I nodded as he gently released my chin, and I sank into his chest. "Where did it… happen?"

"He had me come to his house and we walked into the forest pretty far… maybe a thirty minute walk. I tried to get him to stop and just talk to me, but when I refused to walk on, he said that it wasn't the right spot…"

"Where was the right spot?" He interjected.

My eyes fell shut and the dusty clearing with the logs and the stone circle fireplace flooded my eyelids. "It was an opening in the forest. A clearing where all the Quileute boys probably meet and talk. I don't know, though, but we started talking…" I looked up at Edward, who was waiting, sickly patient. My heart momentarily lodged itself in my throat. "We did talk a little about the treaty, but I don't know if that was just bait to get me into to forest.

"We argued. He started throwing accusations on me… and you, and I tried to tell him that none of this was our fault. He didn't like that, because he…he put his hand over my mouth and told me that he did everything for a reason, but none of that was any of my business… and then that the pain I put him through will be nothing in comparison to what he'd do to me…" My voice quietly broke off at the end. I noticed my fingers were shaking erratically as I remembered it too well.

"What did he do to you?" Edward's voice was frighteningly even as he took my hands in his to calm me, pulling me back into the present.

"He kissed me and… he pushed me down and got over me…" I could feel myself being torn back into the murky woods, the dust enveloping my body as he roughly tore into me…

Edward must have seen how my words were strangling my voice, because he pulled me closer to him, stroking my hair as he rocked me. He pressed his lips into my choppy hair, shushing me and calming me.

I wanted desperately to pull from the forest, but even when I kept my eyelids pulled open, the scene played in front of me from beginning to end, framed by a slow, sad song. It was strangely familiar, oddly echoing from my memories.

"That's a requiem," Edward whispered, his voice strained. I looked up; what was he talking about? He smiled weakly at me, though it didn't touch his eyes. "You're humming, Bella."

I touched my lips in dim shock, followed by Edward's arm wrapped around me. "Am I? I didn't know I was…"

"You were," he said almost victoriously. "I find it… interesting that of all songs you were to know, you chose that particular one."

I felt my head tilt to one side. "What are you _talking_ about?"

Edward pressed his lips against my cheek. "That song…" his voice faltered as he searched for the right words. He sighed. "My mother played the piano, I think. At least, that's one of my lingering human memories. She would play the piano at parties my parents hosted, in the mornings, when my father had days off from his work," His eyes were distant as they studied the green trees, his fingers resting on my collarbone. "She composed a few songs, too."

"Like you," I whispered.

He smiled lightly and continued talking, the memory flooding back like a forgotten dream. "She hardly finished a song—it was too sad for her, too happy for her, too complicated for her to go on with. She got so engrossed in her compositions," he laughed at his one clinging memory. "But she did finish one… it was her gold."

"What was it called?" I asked, suddenly drawn into his story and away from the forest.

"That one nearly escapes me," his voice was quiet and wistful. I watched him, his eyes closed, as he drilled through his mind, trying to recollect this one shard of a memory slowly coming back to him. His gold eyes, warm and distant, flickered open in remembrance. "Mm, yes. She referred to it as a daylight's requiem," Edward pressed me tighter to his chest, and I nestled my nose in his neck, inhaling his fragrance. His words were light, like he was talking to no one but himself. "It was so exquisite, so calm, yet it was devastatingly heart-wrenching. Almost like she was mourning the bereavement of beauty, of innocence."

I laughed lightly, absorbed by our touching bodies. "That seems… fitting."

His hand found my chin, tilting it up to him. "What do you mean?" How could he _not_ know what I meant? I felt my brow furrow, and after a moment's pause, he understood. Sadly concerned, his eyes absorbed mine. "Of course. How could I be so ignorant?"

I wasn't aware as he leaned us back in the grass of the meadow, his icy hand pressed against my back, keeping me close to his side. Heartbreak swam in his eyes, though I wasn't sure how to cure that. I draped my hand on his neck, smiling my best. He couldn't empathize with my pain—I wasn't going to let him do that to himself. His prison would not be the forest, his captor wouldn't be Jacob.

We didn't say anything for what could have been hours, the thin air rolling over our bodies, brushing through the grass. My eyes fell shut, lofting me in lucidity as Edward softly began to hum my lullaby, which oddly spiraled into the daylight's requiem, delightfully haunting…

Then, with such speed, Edward sat up, his hand still wrapped around my waist.

"Who is that?" His voice, usually on some level of calm collection, was terribly panicked and thick with defense. I opened my eyes, clouded light flooding my senses, and saw him staring in the direction of the meadow's tree line.

It was at that moment that an ethereal voice was singing, and it most definitely was not Edward's, but that of a woman. And it wasn't an unfamiliar song, but the requiem, the lullaby…

As my eyes adjusted, the white silhouette of a person in the dark of the trees shone. I shivered, but I don't know that it was from the cold breeze. Numbly, I sat up. "What's going on, Edward?"

Edward's face was a mask of expectant horror. His hand trailed from me as he stood to his feet, facing the apparition. "Who…?"

"You don't recognize me?" The woman's voice was airy; in fact, it could have been nothing more than the wind as it blew through the grass and trees. The white shadow took more form, no longer a doubtful cloud. "After all these years, am I lost to your memory, Edward?"

I looked up at him, my heart pounding. His mouth hung open, quivering like a lost child's. He was trying to create his voice, but nothing came out of him until…

"Mother?"

And then I saw her—so familiar, so beautiful. She smiled and drew closer to us. Edward took a step back from her, but was as still as a statue when she was only a few feet from us, glorious and radiating. "Oh, Edward… I have missed you."

Edward did not speak.

This woman—Edward's mother—tilted her head to the side, her smile wavering. I felt my breath hitch severely in my throat at her saddened beauty. It couldn't be right to see something so glorious with a look of heartbreak in their bottomless, eternal eyes. I looked at him, breaking through my paralysis. "Edward…"

He swallowed, blinked in weary awe, and looked at the holy creature. "I've… I've missed you, too…"

It happened quicker than I thought—either it was Edward's vampiric speed or my own languid attention—but mother was soon holding her son in her illuminated arms, soothing his wracking body. I felt myself slowly retreating into the meadow—the tender grass, whistling trees, and drafty breeze. I felt Nature curling her fingers around my arm, pulling me against her chest… just as Elizabeth Masen had swept Edward into her arms.

And then I was in the grass, which swallowed me like the sea, delicately brushing me and rocking me.

Two sets of eyes lingered over me, one startling green and the other a molten topaz. "Bella…?"

"Shh, Edward…" Elizabeth breathed.

I felt my mind begging my muscles to move my mouth in response, but nothing came. The words branded my thoughts, burning a hole through my most vivid memories. The wind, which had been gentle at first, was blistering and tearing, like something so frozen it burnt. A chortled gasp was slung from me—I know I made that noise because even working my voice was a harsh stretch on my vocal cords. Through a veil of my confusion, I saw Edward anxiously reach for me, crying out. I vaguely saw his mother grip his wrist, restraining him.

Though this collapse, this lucid state was painful, the world seeped through my skin, sank into my blood cells, and restored my bones. It refreshed, it ripped, it rewound my entire existence to an odd innocence and beauty. Nothing had ever touched me, nothing had broken me—yet the knowledge was there and the pain that had existed was there. I clenched my fist in the green grass and heard a gentle trill of laughter slip from my mouth.

If I flexed my hand, it felt, I could make mountains part for me if it's what had to have been done. If I whispered a command to the open sky, it would split and glorious things would rain down for me.

What _was_ this?

Elizabeth hovered in my face, obscuring Edward. "This is what happens when you lose touch with humanity," her voice was hardly more than a whisper. I felt my face twist in confusion at what she had just said. A victorious smile filled my eyes. "This is where you become holy, you become chosen. You become an angel."

Was that what her appearance had been? Or was I just dreaming, tired and lucid in Edward's stone arms, in the meadow? Surely, I was just dreaming… I had slipped past reality after I confessed to Edward what had been done to me…

I was so weak. So tired.

"No, Bella," her voice rang in my head, like she did my thinking for me. "Listen to me. Don't you see what has happened to you over the course of these last days? The change? The visions?" I felt myself nod quickly. "Bella, you aren't delirious. Things aren't happening without an explanation. Look at what is happening to yourself…"

It was true, whatever 'it' was. Carlisle had been right. Elizabeth was right. With glee, the intangible feelings of peace and joy enveloped me and cradled me. I heard Edward frantically ask Elizabeth something, but it evaded me like a dream upon consciousness. My eyes clouded over with what could have been light and could have been darkness, and I was gone.

--

I woke up to an annoying feathery sensation on my forehead.

My eyes lazily lifted open, adjusting to the absence of light. I saw the massive window wall darkly reflecting the gold curtains and gentle lamplight across the room. My mind flipped through the catalogue of people I knew—this touch was certainly too shy to be Edward's, too gentle to be Charlie's, and too stealthy to be Esme or Carlisle.

Alice.

"Oh!" I heard her cry before I saw her. "Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry!"

I grumbled something.

"Have you looked in the mirror yet, Bella? You'll be amazed. Probably confounded. Carlisle is. Edward is. Everyone is!" Her speech was an exciting flood of words. "It's like a transformation… or maybe a deformation… I mean, no! No! Shoot… I'm sorry!"

"What do you mean, Alice?" I asked, groggily.

She sighed with haste. "I _mean_ to say… all your life you were a brunette. Then your hair lost it and went blonde. And _now_, somehow, you are back to being a pretty little brown-headed girl!"

My sleepiness left me like it does a child on Christmas morning. I staggered out of bed, tripped on a pair of shoes that had been kicked off, and lumbered to the bathroom mirror.

And, sure enough, Alice was right. My long brown hair was back in command. She appeared behind me, running her small fingers through it. Her eyes glowed with fascination. "I don't get it… it's so _weird_."

My thoughts spun out of control until I heard my favorite smooth voice, calling out for me. "Bella? Are you in here?"

I shifted my eyes from the mirror and turned around slowly, cautiously. "I'm in the bathroom, Edward," I hadn't finished the sentence before he was walking across the linoleum, securely embracing me. "What's going on?" I asked.

Edward pulled me away from his chest, examining me with his crooked smile set perfectly in place. "Carlisle wants us all to come to the main room and talk about what happened at the meadow…"

"What happened at the meadow?" I wanted to make sure I was absolutely, undeniably, perfectly positive about it...

His eyes flickered to Alice, who was undoubtedly asking him a million questions. "Let's just go talk," He studied my face, and pulled me against his cold chest, delicately kissing my hair. "It's nothing bad, I promise." I'm assuming he added the last sentence because he saw me tense up in anxious anticipation.

Alice and I mindlessly followed him as he tenderly gripped my hand, leading me out of the bathroom, his bedroom, down the twisted stairs, and into the cavernous living room. Carlisle was standing by his elegant chair, his attention settled on a ragged book, what looked like a journal. I saw Esme lift her head and smile at the Edward and me, her fingers still dancing across the porcelain globe she had gracefully set in motion. Emmett was engrossed in a sports game on the television as Rosalie stared blankly into the gleaming fireplace, her expression entirely unreadable. Alice quickly danced to the loveseat that Jasper was on, leaned forward and holding his head in thought. She wrapped her arms around his waist and whispered something in his ear, which he responded to with a nod. Carlisle smiled at us and took a seat in his chair. "Good evening, Bella… Edward."

"Hi, Carlisle," I said, my voice was still hoarse from sleep. I smiled at Esme as she led me to a take a seat next to her, across from Carlisle. Edward was on the other side of me, my hand in his. Why was I so terribly anxious all of the sudden? I shouldn't be… "Is there something wrong?"

He shook his head, looking down at the book on his lap. The brown pages gazed up at him, turning and flipping as he searched through them. The television fell into silence. "No, not at all, Bella. Edward told us what happened earlier, and I wanted to… to give you guidance in what's happened," He glanced at Edward, suddenly solemn. "And to get a better understanding on what happened in La Push."

A low growl reverberated through Edward. "Carlisle…"

Despite my blush, I found my voice. "No, Edward, it's okay. I think I need to talk about it… I can't just act like it never happened…"

"Are you sure?" Edward's voice, typically composed, rattled with worry. "Bella, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it right now."

Jasper lifted his head. "No, let her talk about it. She wants to."

And Jasper was right. A couple of days ago, I never would have allowed myself to conceive the thought of talking about what happened in front of all the Cullens. But, now, I realized they weren't just the Cullens, they weren't just a group of people (or vampires, so to speak) that hadn't experienced what I did. In fact, it was quite the opposite; Rosalie herself had been raped, too, and I knew that Alice and Esme would be there to support me and love me when I wouldn't be able to. Carlisle would guide me, Jasper would help heal me, Emmett would be my big, safe brother. And Edward…

"Bella?" I lifted my head to Edward's gentle voice, a caress on the back of my tense neck.

"Y-Yeah?"

He lifted his eyes to Carlisle, who was leaned forward, intently watching me. "Bella, I want to tell you something very serious," he began, his charming, doctor's voice a harsh anesthetic that I needed. I nodded. "I know you have had great exposure to a world of inane magical monsters, and that you wanted to take part in that world, too," I swallowed as my heart thudded. Edward smoothed his hand over my back. "And you are, but in a very, _very_ different way…" he looked past me, his thoughts spiraling beyond us. His sight lingered elsewhere for a moment, and then he waved it away like annoying cigarette smoke. "Do you remember what happened in the meadow earlier?"

Elizabeth Masen's beautiful face flickered across my eyes, silhouetted by the glowing green trees… "Yes."

I opened my eyes to see Carlisle suddenly in front of me, his gold eyes burning with knowledge. Why was I shaking so badly? Why was there such a strong desire to run into the thick forest?

"Bella, dear," his voice was quieter than what I expected. "You're an angel."

At first, I didn't want to believe it. I didn't know what it meant. I didn't know how to even breathe. I knew Jasper was trying to comfort me from across the room, and I could feel his attempts, but they ricocheted off of me like weak bullets. One thought desperately swam through my head: _What does this mean?_

"Shh, Bella," Carlisle whispered. "It just means that things are going to be a little different around here for you…" I hadn't realized I had spoken out loud, and I tried not to focus on the eternal eyes I felt boring into me. For the first time, I noticed my breathing was incredibly labored, on the edge of hyperventilating. Edward wrapped an arm around me, pulling me against his body like a limp doll. I suppose my eyes asked the questions, because Carlisle continued. "Things are different now because now you can't be changed into a vampire—"

"What does that mean?!" I shrieked. My heart hammered through my body like I was melting down. For a moment, I felt the healed wound in my chest tremble with the threat of splitting open. "Am I going to… to die?! What's going on? Why can't I—"

"Bella, no," Esme whispered, her fingers clutching my waist. "Bella, it doesn't mean anything at all… it just means your path of an eternal life is going to be different than ours," she paused, smoothing my hair. "Sweetheart, it just means you will be an angel living an eternal life here, and we will be vampires living an eternal life here…"

I looked at Edward, his face twisted in hurt; he must have felt the threat of heartbreak rattle through Jasper's thoughts. "Does that mean I can still be… I can stay with you guys?" My voice was nothing more than a tentative whisper.

"Oh, of course!" Esme cried. She kissed my cheek with a ferocity I didn't know she had. "It just means… things will be different…"

"Different how?"

"To preface," Carlisle began. "Angels and vampires as allies are… incredibly unheard of. Most angels despise… us, due to the violent nature of most of our kind," he smiled. "Yet, I think we will be accepted in a different light once they realize what _we_ are like."

"They?" The word filled my mouth, almost foreign to me.

"The other angels," he said. "Though, you won't have to be around them much since you're here with us… most of them are in Heaven."

"What about Elizabeth?"

Carlisle smiled, his eyes lifting to Edward's. "She's going to take care of you, Bella. What Esme and I are to Edward, she will be to you. A mother of sorts, but more like your guardian."

"So everything will be okay?" I breathed.

"Yes," he said. "Certainly different, but perfect," Carlisle drew back from me, and made eye contact with all of his children. "We'll have to readjust. I know we aren't used to change, but this is something we must accustom ourselves to. It will take time and it may take patience."

"I don't care _what_ Bella is. I just want her around." Alice's voice, usually playful and bell-like was stripped of all show, solemn and honest.

Jasper made eye contact with me, and nodded. Emmett sighed heavily and smiled at me. Esme gripped my free hand and kissed my forehead. I was scared of looking back at Rosalie, but when I did, she wasn't frowning, but was watching me with quiet thought.

It was still for a couple of minutes, the air only disturbed by my breathing. My eyes were shut tightly as I tried to calm myself. Everything would be alright…

"Bella?" I heard Edward's voice ringing through the fog of my thoughts. My eyes snapped open. "Can you… are you alright?" I nodded quickly. "You don't have to say anything explicit, but… will you tell us what happened? In the forest?"

My stomach dropped out and I felt myself slipping past me. Desperately, I clung to consciousness and opened my parched mouth. "I was… I was raped."

No one said anything. No one breathed and no one moved. For a moment, I thought I was in a room of statues, a sort of sick exhibit. But reality resumed when Alice broke into tearless sobs, sweeping towards me. She threw her arms around me, shaking her head viciously. "Bella, I'm so sorry…"

"For what?" I asked, incredulous. Why was _she_ apologizing? She hadn't tried to destroy me…

"I didn't see any of it happening!" she wailed. "If I could have seen what that… that bastard wanted to do to you, I would have crossed that line with no second thoughts and murdered him!" I heard a murmur of terrifying agrees around the room.

"Alice, it isn't your fault…" I just wanted to forget.

She lifted her head, her eyes wide with insight. It reminded me of when she saw a vision, but her gaze pierced right through me, burning me. "Bella, it was different," her voice was quiet and stern. "Usually, with the werewolves, I know when something is missing. I _know_ that a part of the future is unreadable," her words started to tumble over each other, murderously searching for the fire escape. "But with this… looking back on it, it was so _different_. It's like when there's a… a road block and you _know_ you can't go a certain way. That's how it usually was with… with _him_," Her lip curled up on the mention of him, and a shock of shivers jolted my spine. "But now… it's like I can't even find it. Like it was never even there to begin with. I search and search now for the future, but no matter how hard I try, my visions just get… they just muddle together and I don't even remember what goes with what…" she growled, angry with herself. "This has never happened before…"

"Did Jacob come around any time after… that?" Carlisle asked, pushed to the side.

My breath hitched in my throat, the words stuck together somewhere in my stomach. This part, no one knew. Not even Edward. No one knew about his visit before the wedding, when he snuck in and tried to…

"Please answer the question, Bella…" Edward fiercely whispered.

"Yes, he did," I said, each word a forced staccato.

"When?"

My throat burned with the truth. I wanted to hide in Edward's room and sleep in his bed, comforted and peaceful, never to have to deal with Jacob again. Just as I was about to retreat, something pulled me out of the fog, tossing me into the reality, as harsh and painful as it was. I forced the words out of my body, kamikaze pilots. "Before the wedding, in the dressing room, when I was getting ready."

"And what happened?" Carlisle pressed, despite the Edward's angry breathing beside me.

I noticed I was crying again when Alice reached up to wipe the tears away. "He tried to do it again…"

It was a terrifying chorus of gasps and snarls, a crescendo to Edward's inhuman howl. At first, he was frighteningly calm, but his body began to shiver with rage and he was soon on his feet, striding towards the front door. Emmett, Jasper, and Carlisle swept to him, grabbing and restraining him. I turned to Esme, who rocked me and soothed me.

"Edward!" Carlisle growled. "Calm down. Now."

I glanced up at Edward, who was raging against Emmett, who had him in an arm lock from behind. "Carlisle, no! Let me go! Let me find him! God damn it, Emmett, let GO!" He twisted with a fierce blow that almost broke him free, but Emmett brought him down, restraining him in his arms from behind. I broke into tears as Edward lashed and howled against his brother's strength, his beautiful, familiar face contorted into the mask of a monster I didn't recognize.

Carlisle knelt down, his fingers an iron vise on his shoulders. He spoke quickly, his voice pinned down with anger and control. "Listen to me right now, son," Edward thrashed against Emmett's hold. Scared, I shrunk away into Esme when Carlisle's stone palm met Edward's cheek in a sharp blow. "Edward! Get a hold of yourself! If not for you, then for Bella!"

"Carlisle, no," he whimpered angrily. "No, he can't…I have to kill him, Carlisle. I can't just stay here, not after what he did to her. Not after that…" he hung his head, and at first I thought it was in defeat. But he lifted his face to meet his father's, his eyes burning with a hateful intensity. "I have to find him, Carlisle, let me go. I can't listen to anymore of this…"

"We aren't doing it to hurt you, Edward," Carlisle said. "We're doing it because there is something terribly wrong and we have to find out what it is before anyone else is hurt."

Jasper, who was standing behind Emmett, looked at me from across the room. "Is that why you were so upset when I found you alone, Bella?" I couldn't stand to look at Edward when I nodded. Jasper inhaled evenly and looked at Carlisle, who was watching him cautiously. "I found her crying, her emotions out of control. I went in there because I heard her crying and I knew something was wrong, but I figured it was just… just nerves, I guess. Alice told me to keep an eye on her," he glanced at Alice, who nodded. "When I asked Bella what was wrong, she refused to answer and passed it of as just that," he looked down, regretful. "I knew something was wrong, though."

"Did she smell like Jacob?" Carlisle asked.

I watched Jasper so intensely, my vision starting to blur. He drifted back to the wedding day, obviously trying to remember; but I already knew the answer. "No, she didn't," he breathed. He started to pace the living room, his mind recalling what happened. "In fact, she didn't smell at _all_. Not even like how she usually does, which was why it was so easy to be close to her when I tried to calm her down," he stopped, facing Alice. I'd never seen him so involved, so thoughtfully vocal. "It's like what you said, Alice. Like it wasn't even there. It was like… like Bella… like you weren't even there…"

Suddenly, it was absolutely too much. Did they think I was lying? Were they as lost as I was? For so long, I had relied on one of them to know the answer, to know what was wrong, to know what to do—but then I realized, with sickening conviction, no one did. Carlisle was as much at a loss for words as I was, if not, more. Alice couldn't see what would happen. Jasper couldn't feel it. Edward couldn't hear it.

I gripped the couch as I tried to hold onto consciousness, to keep from falling away from myself. _I have to face this,_ I told myself. _This is real and this is happening. I just need to think._

I looked up at Esme, my eyes red and wet. "Can I go?" I whispered. "I need to be alone for a little bit."

She touched my face gently, her beautiful yellow eyes gleaming with sorrow. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, Bella. Would you like to take a bath?"

I could feel myself getting ready to cry again, my throat closing up. I nodded and allowed Esme and Alice to help me stand up. They steadied me as I walked across the room to the stairs.

Edward sat on the ground, Emmett's hold loosened. He watched me with eyes echoing a heartbreak too reminiscent of a pain neither of us wanted to call home again. I wanted to hold him, to escape with him…

"Let him and Carlisle talk," Esme whispered in my ear.

"Bella?" he called out frantically when we reached the top of the stairs.

I looked down at him, anchoring myself against Esme and Alice.

His eyes, sunken in with diminished rage and replaced with reluctant submission, held mine for an intense moment before he said, "I'm sorry."

My eyes immediately dropped to the cold carpet, staring up at me. I knew my silence was murderous—he couldn't shut out everyone's thoughts, and Jasper had undoubtedly picked up on my hurting heart. Alice gripped my arm, trying to move me. But I couldn't. Edward's outburst had startled me at first. But it wasn't until now—on the stairs and Edward on the ground, like some ironic and cynical Romeo—that the burn of guilt and rejection settled on me. I choked, my heart slowing, but each beat grew heavier. My shaking hand rose to my neck, trying to free my constricted throat.

I heard Edward cry my name out, hysterical and painful, but I was barely listening as Alice and Esme led me to his bathroom, murmuring comforts while he sobbed in the living room.

--

I don't know how long I was alone in the black and white bathroom, enveloped by the fluffy bubbles and soothing water. I tried my hardest to clear my mind the entire time—which was normally easy in situations like this—but those drifting visions found me.

I saw Carlisle and Edward sitting in his study. Edward was leaned forward, his head in his hands as he swayed back in forth while Carlisle was kneeling in front of him, his hands planted firmly on his shoulders…

Jasper and Emmett were standing on a balcony that overlooked the forest below, their mouths moving, their words silent. All I heard was crickets and the breeze…

The Cullen garage came into my head. Esme and Rosalie were leaned against the bright red BMW, while Alice hastily paced in front of them. Unlike Emmett and Jasper, whose lips moved slowly and thoughtfully, hers were twisted in frustration, moving at an ungodly speed…

With a sigh, I drew my knees up to my chest, hugging them. I shut my eyes, pressing my forehead against my kneecaps. I wanted Edward to come back; I wanted to know that he still loved me…

I heard the door creak open so slowly that, at first, I thought it had just knocked open. But I saw Edward slink in, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. He turned to me, his back pressed against the door. His beautiful face held an unreadable expression, a blend of sadness and apology, love and hurt. I smiled at him the best I could.

He closed his eyes, and then looked towards the ceiling. "Bella," he whispered. "I'm so… I'm so sorry…"

"It's okay," I said.

"No," he retorted, more angry at himself. "No, I shouldn't have said that, I should have controlled myself. I'm so sorry that I made you feel the way you did… I'm disgusted with myself."

I shook my head. He wasn't going to take pity on himself. "Edward, stop," I quietly cried, gripping side of the bathtub with my fingers. "It's okay. I just… I don't want to feel filthy in your eyes… I didn't want that, I didn't want it at all…"

He was soon sitting on the edge of the bathtub, cradling my face in his cold hands. I noticed I was crying as he quickly wiped the tears from my eyes, kissing me. "You are not filthy, Bella. That _dog_ is filthy. You aren't. Please, don't feel like that… you are the most beautiful person ever."

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer to me. The bathtub, which had a rounded, mound shape to it, was slick with soap and bubbles, and, probably due to my own clumsiness and ferocity, caused him to slip into the water with me, clothes and all. The water splashed over the side and soaked my dry hair. Edward looked up at me through his damp hair, his eyes glowing with humor.

Between our laughter, Edward kissed me, whispering "I love you" in a rough, breathless voice.

Both of which I eagerly responded to.

--

**NEUTRAL PERSPECTIVE.**

"They were here."

The meadow, cut in a perfect circle, had an eerie glow under the clouded moon and stars. The trees, beautiful and lively in the day, were shrunken and emaciated in the night. A chilling breeze that cut right through the heart with terror scattered past the two figures, as if to hide from them.

"How do you know?"

A tall, lanky man knelt down and touched the grass with his fingertips. He lifted his hand to his face, inhaled and nodded. "You can smell her, Jacob. And you can smell him, too."

Jacob, cloaked in the dark, knelt down and breathed deeply. The sticky, sweet smell stung his nose, but beyond that was something much more delicate and gentle, saturated in the familiar scent of her…

"She was," he confirmed, almost in disbelief. He stood up, staring up at the crescent moon through the overcast sky. "How long ago, Cecil?"

The man he was with straightened himself up. He was as tall as Jacob was, with a hauntingly slender frame. His face was hidden behind the curtain of his black hair, shadowing his sunken in, worn features. He looked around the meadow, and then up at the moon. In the light, his face reminded Jacob of a skeleton, yet with a handsome charm that attracted him in a mesmerizing sense. His eyes, wide and impossibly dark, reflected the sky. "Earlier. This afternoon, I'd say," he looked back down, turning in his place. "And by the… aura of this clearing, I'd say she's been changed…"

Jacob's breath stopped in his chest. Changed? "Into an angel, right?"

"Yes."

He exhaled. Relief. "So, what now?"

Cecil drew close to him, inches from his face. His hot breath, smelling of ashes and smoke, filled his face. "Now we wait. You already did what I asked you to, right?"

Deep in him, Jacob felt a fatal slash of pain as the memory of the forest rose into his thoughts. He tried as hard as he possibly could to shut out Bella's face, red with agony and twisted with hate…

"Stop thinking about it, Jacob," Cecil sharply demanded. Immediately, the thoughts vanished like a crow in the darkness. "If you did that, then we are on the way to getting what we want."

"Can I ask…" Jacob began, suddenly not so sure he wanted to ask the question. But the look on Cecil's face changed his mind. "What do you want with her?"

"Defensive, are we?" He challenged with a chortle. "Just because you were the one who trapped her doesn't mean she's yours," Cecil watched Jacob's face with a smirk, but saw no change. "Jacob, she's an angel—a vulnerable, naïve, beautiful angel who, in no time, will be ours in the flick of a wrist. What more could you want?"

Jacob suppressed the feeling of guilt with ease. "How long until we—?"

"Give her to time to think she's happy," Cecil's face was shadowed, but Jacob knew the gleam in his eyes that accompanied his tone. "Then we'll let the games begin."

* * *

_Reviewing this will help me tremendously when I go to write the next chapter, which will hopefully tell a little more. I see that I get a lot of reads, and I'd like to know what all you people are thinking when you read this! I have over 4,000 hits and a little over 100 reviews! Come on, feed my back!_

_I will love you forever... and write very quickly. I swear!_

_Stormie_


	10. Balance

Alrighty, then! Apologies for the lengthy wait. You don't know how long this took to write. My mind changed so many times about what I wanted to do. So, an ad:

**WANTED: **BETA READER. An experience, credible reader. Someone who provides good critiques, characterization, grammar, and plot suggestions. I would prefer email correspondence.

After this chapter, I realized I need some help. Don't suggest yourself if you just want to a) have the title of "beta reader" and/or b.) want a sneak peek at my fic before everyone else. Not being rude, but I need some help!

_**Music: **For first perspective of Edward: Sing for Absolution - Muse. Esme, see the Amelie soundtrack, it's so upbeat! Rosalie, I think I listened to something sassy and poppy, like Piece of Me by Britney Spears (for real.). And for those final two perspectives, the theme from Requiem for a Dream.  
_

* * *

**"Balance"**

**EDWARD'S PERSPECTIVE.**

The others always mocked me for my fascination with watching a human girl sleep for hours on end. Emmett begged the question of what was so interesting about watching a potential meal inhale and exhale, the same movements repeated. Wasn't it frustrating, Alice asked with curiosity, to know that she could be awake with me, enjoying me, and I, her?

Of course, neither of them had fallen in love with a human, let alone one like Bella!

Touching her intimately after _it_ was a difficult thing to overcome in the beginning. To know that another man—though _I _hardly consider Jacob Black to be a man—touched her and violated her against her will filled me with rage and hatred. I was well aware of the wretched competition he saw the two of us engaged in—like Bella was an object, a trophy to win.

I scoffed. Is that why he did that to her? Because she was no longer a woman with feelings, but a thing to be thrown around and trampled upon?

I was thoroughly angry with myself. Bella begged me not to be, but how could I not? I had let her go home to Charlie, who played the pathetic messenger of Jacob. I should have been more wary, I should have offered to go with her, I should have asked more questions.

I should have, but I didn't.

Bella shifted in her sleep, her bare and neck illuminated with the heavy glow from the golden candles around my room. Her thick, dark hair was messily spread out on the black pillow, contrasting the beautiful paleness of her face. I leaned over her, listening to her heartbeat and her steady breath, inhaling the scent. Her smell had changed slightly, but not to her disadvantage. For once, there was no desire to drink her blood—not in even in the smallest degree. It was a relief; I no longer felt like killing the one I loved.

An unsustainable growl shook through dead chest.

Contrary to Jacob Black, I loved Bella. Hurting her was the farthest thing from my eternal mind, and then some. Though I couldn't say the same for _him_. Even at the thought of him—whether my own or the others'—I felt myself being saturated in rage, my mind flicker into the chaotic monster I could so easily slip into. It took every ounce of control I had to not tear off into the woods, cross the boundary, and tear into him, ripping him apart like he ripped Bella apart…

The idea was too much to bear. All I could see was Bella—Bella, lying on her back… Bella, naked and stripped of her dignity… Bella, crying out with no one listening except Satan himself.

I noticed my hands were clenched into stone fists. Though the desire was unbelievably strong, I resisted the urge to slaughter Jacob. The last thing Bella needed was to wake up to my absence, only to learn I had fled to commit a murder of vengeance…

Though, his death was justifiable. After all, didn't I only kill rapists and the like? It would only require a lapse in self control, and he would be gone…

I rose from the bed sheets and tucked them around Bella's bare, irresistible form. As I gathered my bath-water soaked clothes from the carpet, revenge ravaged my every thought…

--

**ESME'S PERSPECTIVE.**

_Bella is definitely very—_

"Esme? Esme, where are you?"

My thoughts were dissolved at the sound of my youngest son's voice. Though I couldn't see him at the moment, I could imagine him: his eyes wide with worry and searching and his brow furrowed in unison. Usually, his dilemmas were nothing of serious consequence. Help with cooking Bella's dinner… his music sheets were misplaced in my cleaning haste…

"No, Bella's already eaten and I've recently learned my lesson when Clair de Lune got tossed into the fireplace by Emmett," his words were as rushed as he was as he swept into the room. He stopped suddenly, looking around. "I… I can't find Bella…"

I raised in eyebrow. Surely he didn't mean that. "What do you mean? Didn't she say she was going to go bathe?"

Edward sat on the couch next to me, his body still rigid and rocking. "Yes, and I went to check on her—it had been an _hour­­_—and she wasn't in there. The water was drained, her towel was in the hamper…"

My heart, had it not been dead, would have leapt into my throat. I grappled with the guilty images of Bella being kidnapped… Bella being frightening… Bella being raped… Bella being—

"Esme, _stop_!" his shrill voice broke through my thoughts, throwing them back into the thick darkness of denial. My son's face came into focus—his eyes were wide with horror, his mouth quivering open in confusion. I reached out to him and hulled him into my arms; it was a dreadful thing when Edward heard me think things so unbearable. To see him in distress, that made my heart ache. To see him so frantic over the prospect of Bella being hurt…

"Will you help me look for her?" he pleaded against my shoulder, muffled by my embrace. "Please?"

I released him, smiling and shaking my head. My thoughts preceded me: He was foolish to expect me _not_ to help him.

We searched each room and bathroom of the house, even the vast garage and the dim, dusty attic, but she was nowhere to be found. I observed Edward's anxiety increase as we encountered each empty room, and my own fear grew as night approached our windows, dark faced and empty eyed.

Edward's face was blank and blanched as we sat down on the couch. The living room seemed to have spread out since out search, the smallest of shadows yawning and endless. I felt my hollow stomach fall into the cradle of unease… but for his sake...

"Edward, it's okay," I said, my voice playing patient and positive. "She can't have gone anywhere…"

For a moment, he didn't answer, only glared at the wall. "But what if she hasn't gone anywhere…"

I immediately caught on. "Edward!" I hissed. "Don't think that! She is safe… she probably just went outside for a walk…"

"Outside!" he cried, jumping up. "We didn't check outside…" he sounded suddenly sick with realization as he rushed for the front door, opening it in one swift motion only for—

"Edward?"

Bella was standing in the doorway, her hand reaching for the knob. Her pretty face was altered in a small degree of confusion, as if she had just seen something slightly strange. Edward, bless him, took no time to sweep her into his arms, moving her into the house, away from some imaginary raging thunderstorm…

"Oh, Bella," he breathed as he came into the living room, sitting her on the couch next to me. "Where were you? Where did you go?"

She looked at me, almost pleadingly. I didn't understand that look. "I was just outside in the front yard. Why are you so worried?"

He scoffed, causing me to cringe away from the torrent he was most likely able to bring on her. I consciously warned him to be calm, to not be angry with her. "Why was I worried?" He repeated. "Why didn't you tell someone where you went? Esme and I searched the entire house looking for you…"

Bella reached up to his face, and cradled it in her small palm. "I'm sorry, I didn't think that you'd be this worried. I just… I heard something outside and I wanted to see what it was…"

Edward's eyes, if possible, widened. "You heard something? Bella, what if it was—"

She blushed and looked down. "No, it wasn't anything bad. I just…" she broke off, her mouth twisting with the indecision of what to say. "It's hard to explain, maybe only I can hear it, but it was like there was song coming from the sky," she started to speak quickly, uncontained. "The moon was out early, and I _swear_ I heard it singing…"

Edward glanced up at me for the flit of a second, his voice gauging. "Singing?"

"I know, it probably doesn't make any sense," Bella said, almost ashamed. I gripped her free hand, listening. "But if I listen right now, I can hear the stars singing, too…"

Even though every sound in the house halted in hopes of hearing a symphony, nothing came. Bella listened in content until Edward gently directed her eyes back to his. He was clearly on the verge of saying something to her, but his mouth attempted soundless words until he gave up and stroked her cheek, smiling. "Come on, Bella, let's go lie down…"

I watched Edward guided Bella toward the stairs, his hands on her waist. I heard her scold him for making such an event out of her disappearance, and Edward gently refute her.

_Yes_, I thought, hoping to God that Edward didn't hear me. _Bella is definitely different now._

--

**ROSALIE'S PERSPECTIVE.**

The day after our hunt, Esme privately repeated to me Bella's attendance to the song of the stars… or whatever it was that she'd called it.

I didn't know how to take the news. Nor did anyone else, really. Emmett raised his eyebrow and shrugged. I could imagine that Alice wanted to ask Bella about what happened, listening in wide-eyed fascination. Carlisle's sudden lack of presence around the house meant one thing: he had turned to his literature for angelic answers. Jasper probably heard the story and let it roll off his shoulders—or maybe not. With Jasper at times, it was impossible to know for sure.

I carefully studied everyone else—this inane interest in Bella was nothing new around here. Bella the human was just as fascinating as Bella the angel.

Call it what you will, but there was this primal instinct to be furious that she was central to our household. Even more than that, she didn't _want_ to be the center of attention. It sickened me when she would skirt her way out of conversations that turned into the topic of herself, as if she might be trying to play the martyr.

But beyond that, there was an inexplicable feeling of defense for her. Around Edward, I tried not to think about what happened to her, knowing he could hear what I thought. It was harder than it sounded.

I tried to distract myself from these conflicting thoughts as I made my way to the garage, to bind myself to yet another fleeting possession for a little while—my BMW. Something calmed me about inspecting and reinventing the engine. A smile was on my lips as I opened the door, only to be knocked out of place like a loose tooth the moment my mind registered the scene.

Edward was bent over his Volvo, undoubtedly doing the same thing I intended to do. He looked up at me briefly. "Hi, Rose."

I smiled and made my way to my car. "Good evening, Edward," I internally damned myself for parking my car next to his.

"I know you probably aren't happy with Bella right now," he said, restraining his anger. "But at least pretend to be when you're around me." The way he said the last part made me stop. What was that, buried in his tone? He was certainly strained with something, but whether it was hurt or regret or rage, I wasn't sure.

I busied myself with opened the hood of my car, pretending I didn't hear him, though knowing it was a vain attempt. "Where's Bella?" It wasn't until after I said it that I immediately regretted it. Though he didn't say anything about it, I sensed the second meaning I must have said it with. I tried to center my thoughts on it: _I didn't mean it like that… I wasn't trying to bring up her little disappearance… in fact, I don't even mind… but where is she?_

"She's asleep," Edward seethed.

"That's good," _She needs all the rest she can get after everything she's been through._

We worked on our cars in silence, though probably not on his end what with my thoughts. How tiring it must be to be unable to focus on nothing but the voices of others! For a little while, I was conscious of what I thought about, but that awareness drifted away as my own thoughts drifted to Bella. And before I knew it, all I could think about was my own foggy rape, and then Bella's…

They came as big, blocky images. Like photographs. I heard her screaming and crying, Jacob grunting and shouting. I watched her try to beat him away from her, and I watched him throw her hands down, positioning himself. I could feel everything as Bella had felt it, Jacob—

"ROSALIE!" Before I knew it, I was shoved against the concrete wall, Edward inches from my face. His gold eyes burned black against my own bewildered gaze, his iron grip tightening on my shoulders.

I immediately knew. And I immediately repented.

"Edward, I—I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… I didn't know, I wasn't even thinking about what I was… thinking about…" I searched desperately for the words that would make Edward believe me. His breathing was uneven, his face darkened in his rage and heartbreak. "I'm so sorry, Edward…"

"Listen to me, Rosalie," he growled. "I am perfectly aware of the fact the Bella—that my _wife_—was raped under my watch. I have reason to believe I am more acquainted with that fact than anyone else in this house," he loosened his grip, freeing me with a shove. In the pit of his eyes, I saw his remorse for his attack on me, and he was instantly forgiven. When he spoke again, he was quiet, pensive, and sad. "I listen to her screaming every night—why else would I be down here, away from her? Even down here, I can still hear her…" He trailed off, allowing the house sounds to catch my ears.

Her cries sounded strangled and foreign. I would have thought her to be an animal at first if she hadn't been saying, "Jacob… stop…" Silently, I focused back on Edward. His eyes were closed and his mouth was drawn in a taut, sad line. For the first time I could remember, he looked startlingly ancient, weary—this lasted only a moment, but it went by unnoticed and tucked in my memory. His usual white complexion (like every other one of our kind) was grey like old parchment shoved away in Carlisle's desk; though I couldn't see his eyes, the dark circles marking his hunger were deep, black like Jasper's unchanged ink; I'm sure Esme would have renovated the arch of his frown to a happier state…

Edward wanted to cry. As shallow as I was, that much was obvious. He opened his eyes, onyx and empty, and gazed into mine. "Rosalie, I… I don't _know_ what to do…" His mouth hung open, suspended in sad attempts at words.

"Shh…" I whispered, drawing my little brother into my arms. He heaved desperately into my shoulder, tearless and broken. My hands found their way through his hair, calming him. "Edward, everything's okay… Do you want to know something?" I waited for a response, but nothing came. "Sometimes, you don't need to know what to do. Sometimes, knowing what to do isn't right. Sometimes, you've got to stop relying so much on logic and facts. Sometimes, you've got to listen to what your heart is saying," He shook his head against my shoulder, but I refused to hear his argument. "I know it sounds childish and cliché, but, Edward, I think you forget that I've been through the exact same thing as Bella. And that Emmett was in your shoes. And you do heal from it. We both did. I know it's different for you, but I was still hurting and Emmett had to face it," I pulled back and forced him to look at me. "You are not allowed to run away from this. You can't always hide in the garage when Bella needs you."

He exhaled, his head shaking in the slightest movement. He spoke in hardly more than a whisper. "I don't see where to begin. Where to heal, what to say, what to do…"

"Now, you listen to me, Edward," I hissed; why was he so _stubborn_?! "Healing is not a number that can be plugged into the Quadratic Equation. Love is not achieved by some medical remedy. And there is no Scientific Method for rape recovery… no hypothesis, experimentation, and, _or_ conclusion," I paused, letting my words sink in. He flinched when I said 'rape', but I wasn't going to allow him to skid around the word, like it was some Spanish influenza. "What you need to do is understand what happened and the repercussions of that. Bella has nightmares, but you have to see those nightmares through with her and will her to talk through them, if need be," His eyes had lowered to the concrete, and I gripped his chin, forcing him to make eye contact with me. "You've got the medical degrees, Edward. Think about it. If a massive wound goes untreated, it can either get infected—which leads to possible gang grene, which can result in death or amputation—or it scars, which leads to a disfigurement of some degree, as well as the memory of what happened."

Edward was nodding in agreement before I even finished. I watched in interest as he mentally calculated and graphed the information I had given him. He did not speak, but looked around, biting his lip. I patted him on the shoulder and turned back to my BMW. "If you need to, Edward, you can talk to Emmett."

"Talk to Emmett about what?"

We looked toward the garage door, where Bella stood in her blue silk pajamas, running her hands through her hair. Her dark brown eyes were circled with sleepiness, and she languidly leaned against the door post. How had we not heard her coming?

Edward swept towards her and kissed her on the forehead. She groaned at his impact and rubbed her eyes, smiling. Though I hated to admit it to myself, the surge of happiness for both of them sparked my heart. I knew Edward could hear me, yet I was unashamed.

"What brought you down here, Bella? It's nearly four A.M."

Bella wrapped her slender arm around his waist. It was a hot arrow through me that I realized she was beautiful. "I could almost ask you the same thing, Edward Cullen," she sighed, and answered his question. "I had a nightmare and when I woke up, I was scared when you weren't up there with me…" she trailed off, knowing the next question: How did she know where to find him? She blushed, answering. "I kind of… well, I _saw_ you and Rosalie down here."

"What do you mean you saw?" Edward pressed.

She sighed, and waved the conversation off wearily. "I don't know, it just happens, I guess. It's maybe kind of like Alice, but I don't see the future. I see what's happening now," her cheeks turned a deeper shade and I hastily looked away. "It's weird. Probably some… angel thing."

I saw Edward glance up at me, but he focused back on Bella and kissed her gently on the lips. "Come on, Bella; let's get you back to sleep."

"Alright, then," she mumbled, against his chest.

_Remember everything I said, Edward,_ I thought. _She needs this. She needs you._

--

**NEUTRAL PERSPECTIVE.**

"Is this the house?"

"I… I _think _so. Looks like Elizabeth's description."

Two small children, a girl and a boy, stood before a vast white house set far in a forest. They cautiously began to wander across the flat front yard, awed by the canopy of trees. The girl reached out and touched the bark of the nearest tree. "Feel it, Atticus! It's so much more beautiful when you're down here, you know…"

"Sophie, come on. We have to get there before Cecil can stop us," He looked up, eying the sky, held hostage by the clouds with the threat of rain. The boy clutched the girl's small hand, leading her away from her fascination.

"It doesn't matter if he knows we're here," Sophie sang triumphantly. "'Lizabeth is watching over us!"

Atticus gripped his sister's hand tighter as they approached the great steps to the porch. Though he tried to be brave for his sister, who was slightly younger than he, in the face of their destination, he balked. Where he came from, he didn't know uncertainty or rejection. He knew only love, but the more time he and his sister spent on Earth, the more he realized the tension of the balance. One wrong word could dash it all to hell, and that was all he could manage to think of…

On the other hand, Sophie was the opposite. Optimistic as always, she had comforted him with Elizabeth, with thoughts of a mother and father and a family. His sister was his completion; where he was doubtful, she was doubtless.

At his side, he heard her laughter as a small rain pattered behind them. She peered around his shoulder at the door, understanding the task at hand. "Let's just knock. They _can't_ reject us, Atticus. They simply can't," she giggled as she bounded up the stairs. "Besides, I think I hear him coming to the door. They know a stranger is here."

Atticus made his way to his sister's side and gripped her tiny hand in his. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, to make sure she was at ease. His small hand rose to the white door…

--

**EDWARD'S PERSPECTIVE.**

...the doorbell sent a shock through me as it sounded. Who would be calling upon our house?

"Would you get that?" Alice shouted at me from the kitchen. "Your wifey and I are making dinner."

I rolled my eyes, rising from the piano bench. Why Alice insisted on me to answer the door, I didn't know. As if Bella needed any aid in the kitchen. I heard the two laugh loudly and then the drop of a pan, to which sent them into hysterics.

As I made my way to the door, I considered who would be here. Face flickered through my overwhelmed mind like a roulette, until the shiny metal ball dropped before the script: Jacob Black. I cringed, a flare rising in my chest. Who was he to taunt our house with his despicable presence? But if it was him, I countered, at least he came to me, provoking me. That might ease Bella's response to the violence.

I tried to tune the thoughts in, but nothing came. If Bella was located on the AM and I only received FM, then the thoughts—yes, definitely more than one person—were in that bizarre limbo between the two, static and jumbled. I set my predator reflexes on, prepared for a fight if necessary.

But there was no one there when the door opened, only the foggy rain as it filtered through the trees. At least, this was at first. I felt my eyes loft down, until I saw them.

Two children. Circa age six. A boy, a girl.

The boy looked up at me, worried. His hair was brown, yet it glinted with bronze. And his eyes—green, emerald, grassy, earthy green, the green eyes I envied. His clothes were worn and filthy, wrapped in a brown sweater, contrasted by the beautiful porcelain of his innocent face, stony yet sincerely expressive. Much like my own…

And the girl… the girl looked up at him with the same guarded green eyes, searching my face for any jest and happiness, only to meet my bewilderment. Her beautiful hair, precisely shaded like the boy at her side, was gently curled, falling gracefully around her face. A peaceful smile played on her full lips, illuminating her fair skin. She wore a deep blue sundress with the same thick black sweater wrapped around her slight frame.

"A-Are you lost?" I managed to choke out, though why I said this, I wasn't too sure.

The boy glanced at the girl, who nodded. I heard a small jingle bell and took notice of the necklace she wore: a small, ornate key with a tiny bell attached.

He spoke. "No, we aren't," his voice was more than a whisper. "Is the the… the Cullens' home?"

I nodded, and felt Bella and Alice congregating behind me.

"And are you Edward?" The girl chimed in, her breathtaking smile filling my heart in the way only a child could…

Again, I nodded.

The little girl bit her lip and glanced at the boy, like she was sneaking a glimpse when she should be praying. The boy lifted his eyes. "Edward, I'm Atticus Antony."

_Much like your middle name, Edward…_ I heard Alice think warily.

"And I'm Sophie Belle, Edward!"

_Much like Bella's name, Edward…_ Her thoughts were frantic, suspenseful.

Bella breathed evenly next to me, though it was a great effort. She moved to my side and gripped the paneling. "Did… did Elizabeth send you here?"

The girl, Sophie, nodded vehemently.

"Why?" Bella asked.

"Because," Atticus stated. "We're angels."

"And we're children," Sophie sang.

"And you are our mother and father."

* * *

Eek.

Review pleases? I love you. :)


	11. Father

_My apologies this took so long. First of all, I was having slight writer's block (not the case anymore!). Then I had to send this to my beta reader, snowcoveredroses! And __then I had some problems with uploading this through Internet Explorer, which ultimately led to me downloading Firefox. Ah, the complications._

_Some questions are answered this chapter, I think. Or maybe you'll be satisfied with what is explained._

_Oh, and by the way: the __Twilight teaser plays before __The Happening, which I think is an excellent movie. It's so exhilarating to see it on the big screen! haha._

_Anyway:_

_**Music: **Pictures of You - The Last Goodbye. It has that... this-family-is-going-to-stick-together-no-matter-what feel to it. Kind of like this chapter._

_Enjoy! And I'm not Stephenie Meyer, ha._

* * *

**"Father"**

**EDWARD'S PERSPECTIVE.**

Numbly, I watched as Bella collapsed at my side, staring at the two children in blatant awe. Deep in her throat, I heard her voice box quivering, a ticking time bomb. The girl, Sophie, kissed her cheek and Bella embraced her tightly. She pulled away sharply and drew Atticus into her delicate arms, holding her children.

Our children.

Whatever I had been prepared to say was immediately reduced to ice bergs that sunk into my stomach. Behind us, I heard my family slowly congregating. Carlisle stepped towards me, his eyes bewildered and possibly fearful, and pulled me aside. _What happened, Edward? Who are these children?_

Knowing Bella was too engrossed in the two children to notice our side conversation, I explained quickly in low tones what had happened. His face, somber at first, lightened as I talked. Over his shoulder, I suddenly noticed Bella watching me, Sophie and Atticus peering around her.

_A vampire and an angel's children…_ I rolled my eyes at the irony of Alice's thoughts.

_They're absolutely adorable! _Esme happily gushed._ They're such stunning little ones, though I do wonder…_

_Well, damn, Edward,_ I heard Emmett chortle. _For the living dead, you've sure got good seed…_

Rosalie's thoughts were untouchable, distant… which I presumed to be a good thing.

Bella was gazing at me, her beautiful brown hair mussed from her children's embraces—through the gold light of the chandelier, a small halo seemed to circle her head. She smiled at me and looked down at the two. Sophie was hugging Bella's slender legs, and Atticus was holding his mother's hand.

What odd words to say, _his mother's hand_. It was an astonishing revelation to know that I now shared my Bella with these two strange children. I had shared her with Charlie, I had shared her as a friend, I had shared her as a family, but I hadn't yet shared her as a wife and mother.

Steadily, I gazed into the boy's face. From the photographs Carlisle and I had recovered from my home in Chicago, we shared many of the same features—our mouths, eye shape and color, and our hair. Yet Bella was gently reflected in him. I could tell he was stubborn—it was in his stance, the look floating on his face—and that he had a self sacrificing heart; it was he, after all, who had rang our doorbell. His hair was more bronze than it was brown. My son.

I studied Sophie, who was smiling at me, slightly hidden behind Bella. Her hair had the same body and color as Bella's, the brown winning over the bronze; her delicate heart shape face made my ancient heart flutter; but it was her smile that told me she was my daughter. This girl-child was my daughter, my delicate daughter given to me by this beautiful woman that I did not deserve…

_Edward, _Jasper thought, drawing me from my evident feelings of happiness. _The children have something to tell us._

Quickly, I focused back on what was happening in our foyer. Bella's head was tilted to the side and Alice looked more thrilled than usual. I swallowed, unsure how to approach the topic…

"If you don't mind, father, can we just go into the living room and my sister and I can tell you what we need to?" Atticus said abruptly, his eyes lifting. How had he known what I was thinking? Sheepishly, he smiled. "I can't hear everything you're saying—I know you can read minds clearly—but I have a… feeling about what people think."

I clenched my teeth, unsure how to respond. He could sense my thoughts?

Carlisle led us into the living room, the family and the children sitting around the coffee table. I immediately sat next to Bella, gripping her hand and kissing her lips. She smiled at me. "It's okay, Edward," she whispered. "Don't be so tense."

After moving down, the children sat next to us, Sophie admiring Rosalie's beauty, and Atticus nervously playing with the knee creases of his pants.

"So, Sophie, Atticus," Carlisle began, smiling gently at the two. "Does something else bring you here besides your parents?" _This is simply bizarre… never in my entire studies…!_

Sophie perked up, suddenly alert and rushed. "Elizabeth, she sent us here because we need to warn you about the Wretched! They're everywhere! When we came… came down from Heaven, we had to hurry before they stopped us from finding you! They're looking for mother and they want to kill father! They want to murder all of you!" Her voice dropped as she realized what she said, clapping her small hands over her mouth. Her blush reminded me of Bella's. "I'm sorry, but I had to warn you… we're scared… everyone is…"

"Sweetheart, calm down," Esme soothed. "Now, explain to us again what is happening. Who are the Wretched and why do they want to kill Edward and Bella? Who is everyone?"

Sophie hung her head, and I caught a faint buzz of her thoughts: _…Foolish!... Too fast… _Atticus picked up where she left off. "Elizabeth, Edward's actual mother, she sent us here from Heaven after she told us that our mother had become an angel. At first she wanted to wait, but then she began to notice that Cecil was trying to close in on this house—"

"Who is Cecil?" I asked, bewildered. I skimmed my brain. Cecil was not part of the Volturi—at least to my knowledge—and I had known of no one by that name in Bella's life. However, the lack of recognition wasn't what threw my brain into overdrive—the fact that an unknown someone was lurking closer to our home…

"Cecil is a being from Hell," It sounded like this young boy had _growled_ when he said those words. "He is the leader of the Wretched, who are Lucifer's chosen ones. And they're after our mother."

Carlisle leaned forward, his face sharp with concentration. "But why?"

"We aren't sure," Sophie murmured, frightened. "But we have gotten word that they want to steal mother from here and take her away. I think Lucifer wants her goodness to feed on, and Cecil wants… her as his wife."

I lifted my eyes from Sophie, and watched Bella. Her face fell blank and pale, wide-eyed and gaping. Her mouth quivered and I inhaled deeply. This breath, how deep or shallow it may have been, was the fuel for the fire in my chest. Another man desired Bella as if she were a tenure? My fists tightened, cords extended down my arm. The breathing was rapid as I desperately fought for control, fought against an outbreak of rage, fought against the hurt that was ebbing in me…

"What do we need to do?" Jasper's words were distant to me, as if I were a sunken ship beneath the ocean's surface though I watched his lifesaver fail to pull me in.

"The wolfman has found her, hasn't he?" Atticus asked, shifting his eyes towards me. Jacob flickered in my mind, a regurgitation of the anger. "Yes, he has. He has been chosen by Cecil to manipulate mother to get what he wants."

Bella's eyes parted from my face, and looked at her son. "What do you mean, wolfman? Jacob?" His name, to my ears, was acid and cyanide in Bella's beautiful mouth.

"I think that's his name," Though Sophie's voice chimed, it was a sad bell, a piano out of tune. "But this is what Cecil and the Wretched do. They are sent by their master to hunt down angels on earth and bring them to him so that he can drain them of their humanity and soul," She lowered her head, mourning. "You are not the first by any means, mother, but you will be the last."

"But you are the first angel he's wanted," Atticus said.

I reached for Bella's comforting, warm hand as she leapt up. "What do you mean that Jacob is helping this Cecil guy? I don't understand what's going on."

I closed my eyes, listening intently on the first set of thoughts that were clear from the two children, searching desperately for the words to tell Bella what they thought…

"Love, Jacob didn't… he didn't rape you because _he _wanted to," I said, my voice surprisingly rough. "He did that to you because Cecil _forced_ him to. He tricked him, just like Jacob tricked you…"

She was pacing the living room, her hands pressing against her temple. I longed to pull her into my arms, to comfort her… "Okay, let me get this straight," her soft voice was strained and weary. "I have two children who have been in Heaven," she walked towards Sophie and Atticus, who gazed up at her with wide, sweet eyes. She kneeled in front of them—my heartstrings were gently pulled, this woman I loved now a mother. "Two beautiful children who have come to warn me that a person—a demon, or whatever Cecil is—from Hell is out to not only murder me, but my family," she glanced around the room at each one, her eyes lingering on mine. If I could only read her mind… "And through Jacob, he has gotten one step closer to what he wants," she paused for clarification, watching the two small angels. Sophie exchanged glances with Atticus, and then nodded. "So what do we do?"

"We're going to protect you until Elizabeth can come and help us defeat the Wretched," Atticus explained—ironically, he sounded more like an adult than Bella did, whose legs were now crumpled beneath her as she sat on the floor, her eyes wide, lined with distress. "She can't come now because the presence of so many angels will attract not only Cecil, but every Wretch and Lucifer might show up."

"When will my mother be here?" My heart sang as I thought of my mother, forever beautiful and glorious in the eyes of me, her son…

"We don't know," Sophie said, regretfully. "Soon, though."

Emmett clapped his hands once, leaning forward. "So we're protecting Bella, huh?"

"Yes," the two confirmed.

My brother winked at Bella, laughing. "Nothing new there, now is it?"

--

**BELLA'S PERSPECTIVE.**

"Are you sure you have a room for them?" In all my time at the Cullen's, I had never come across a spare room for guests. But I might just have not noticed, as the Cullens never had guests to begin with.

Esme walked ahead of Edward, Sophie, Atticus, and me, and dismissed my words like annoying cigar smoke. "Of course, dear! This is a large house, Bella!" She walked ahead of us with a happy bounce. She continued up the second set of stairs to the top story, but instead of going to the end of the hallway to mine and Edward's bedroom, she stopped at an inconspicuous door next to the library. Briefly smiling at me over her shoulder, she twisted the knob and led us in.

It was certainly one of the smaller rooms of the house, as it was close to my old room's size. The walls were a smooth, dark red with matching curtains, with black carpet as a contrast. There was one bed, scarlet and canopied with drawing curtains. Compared to the rest of the house—particularly Edward's room—this room looked like it belonged to someone of medieval royalty.

"Do you like it?" Esme asked, her face glowing. "I thought this would be a beautiful theme for a guest room…"

I nodded, watching Sophie and Atticus venture into the room, admiring Esme's design. I snuck a glance at Edward, who kept a tender grip on my hand. He was watching Atticus as he drew the canopy curtains open, and ventured into it like a daring explorer. I had expected to find Edward indifferent, still in shock, but his features were shaded with longing and love.

Esme dashed by me, quickly kissing me on the cheek. "Come find me when you're hungry, dear…" And she was gone, the door shutting gently behind her.

Edward looked at me, smiling sadly. "Bella…"

I ran a finger along his jaw. "Yes?"

"I want to… to touch them, but I'm nervous about... about how they'll... react..." he admitted, his eyes lowering to the ground. "I don't want to frighten them, but they're so… astonishingly beautiful…" I heard his voice crack a little, his brow furrowing.

Instinctively, my heart ached for him and I drew him into my arms, though I had to stand on my toes. Against me, he was slightly shaking. "Edward, don't be scared. They're fascinated by you… they want their father…"

Edward shook his head, the motion small.

"Come on," I whispered, pulling from him. He made a move to pull me back to him, but barely followed through with it. I drew him to the bed where Sophie and Atticus were, talking in hushed, happy voices. He stopped short of the curtain, like he was irrationally afraid of what could be behind it… "Just go to them, Edward. Please?"

Edward stood motionless for a moment, watching them play, calculating his moves. Slowly, he moved forward, and peered around the curtain. "Sophie?" His voice was strained. "Atticus?"

I looked around him and saw as Sophie's small arms wrapped around his neck, dangling like a doll from a child's hand. Edward tentatively scooped her up in his arms, her legs wrapped around his chest. He turned halfway towards me, though unaware to my presence. Sophie studied his features for a moment before she kissed him on the cheek with a little laugh. Atticus crawled out from the curtain, and looked up at Edward with fierce admiration. Sophie slipped out from his arms, stretching her legs to the ground. He set her down and noticed Atticus, who was hopefully watching him. Edward kneeled, almost eye level with his son. The boy kept an even gaze with him, but then put his arms around Edward's neck.

"I told you Elizabeth was right when she said daddy's a good man," Sophie whispered to Atticus, though not as quietly as she had intended.

Edward and I quietly played with Sophie and Atticus as the sky darkened to an inky grey. Sophie was particularly fond of playing Hide and Seek, where she staked out under a bed almost every time. Atticus and his sister sang small songs together, though the language was unknown to not only me, but also to Edward.

Near the end, Sophie cradled herself in Edward's lap, her eyes drifting shut. "Do you want to take this necklace off, Sophie?" He asked softly, lifting the key and jingle bell up between his fingers.

Sophie quickly clutched it in her hand, her eyes closed with sleep. "Elizabeth said I can't take it off."

"What does the key go to?"

When she spoke, she mumbled through the slumber. "Some place special."

Atticus yawned from where he lay in my arms. I lifted him the best I could and placed him on a bed, tucking him in. I turned around and saw Edward lean over Sophie, kissing her gently on the forehead. "Goodnight, Sophie."

"Goodnight, father."

Edward lingered for a minute. "I love you."

"Love you, too, daddy."

He stood motionless by the door, watching the children as they drifted along towards sleep. Though I couldn't hear heartbeats, I knew that's what he was waiting for—a steady, peaceful movement in their chests.

Edward looked down at me, smiling wistfully as he opened the door, shutting it noiselessly. I could hear the television skipping along the walls from the first floor, followed by Emmett's bellowing laugh. I would have laughed had Edward not captured my lips with his, moving them tenderly and passionately against mine. I must have grown perceptibly light-headed in his arms because he pulled away, studying me.

His expression, painted on a far more angelic face than my own, was indecipherable, yet honest and open. Perhaps he was happy. Maybe he was perplexed. There were traces of a satisfied longing, replaced with copious contentment. Was he grateful?

Edward was unreadable, but I wasn't.

"Bella," he pulled me into his cold arms, whispering in my ear. "You have given me the greatest gifts known to exist. You've given me happiness and love. You've given me faith and compassion. I've never known any of that before you," he pulled me back, inches from my face, his beautiful, golden eyes melting me. "Love, you've given me Sophie and Atticus, and this… instinct, this need to be a good father, which was beyond my most fantastical dreams," He smiled. Though he was incapable of crying, every part of him yearned to. "But most importantly, you've given me you. I couldn't have asked for a better life, Bella. Without you, I'm nothing more than a dead body."

I nodded, smiling as I drove the tears away. He laughed, wiping the saline from my eyes, and then gently kissed each one, his perfect eyelashes fluttering against my forehead and cheeks.

"Come on, Emmett is waiting on you and me. He's in a rather rambunctious mood this evening," Edward said, his tone much lighter as he led us down the hall and to the stairs. Desperately, I gripped his hand that always lingered close to my own.

And for the first time since Jacob, I was truly happy and restored.

--

**ALICE'S PERSPECTIVE.**

"Emmett, put me down!" Sophie shrieked across the front down, laughing. I looked up from my copy of _Vogue _to see the small girl slung over Emmett's broad shoulder. Her legs were kicking frantically, but she just looked like a rag doll. Bella was sitting at my side, nervously watching with a smile of anticipation set in place. I laughed at her, and looked back down at the magazine.

Behind me, Rosalie walked onto the porch and sat on the other side of Bella, eying Emmett as he sat Sophie back on her feet, who immediately bolted back to where we sat.

"Tell Emmett to never do that again, momma!" Sophie whimpered into Bella's arms. "It was so scary…"

"Atticus doesn't seem to mind," she said. I looked up to see Atticus and Emmett playing in the front yard together. "Maybe you should just stay up here with the ladies."

Sophie climbed onto Bella's lap. "Where's father?"

"Right here!" Though I already saw it happen, Edward swooped up from behind Sophie, hoisting her up by the waist. She let out her cute little cry as he turned her around in his arms so she could clutch to him in her spider monkey way. She laughed with Edward, pressing her head against his chest. "Let's go back out there, okay? I won't let Emmett get you like he has been. He's pretty rough, huh?"

Sophie nodded, her brow furrowed in annoyance at the biggest Cullen. Again, I giggled.

"Well, you don't need to be worried anymore, because I won't let him hurt you." Edward carried Sophie back out into the sun-dappled yard, his skin glowing in fleeting patches.

Sophie _ooh_ed and _aah_ed quietly at the glittering. "I wish _I _could do that!"

"Oh, no, you don't," Edward whispered, though it was too low for Sophie to hear. I turned my attention back to the magazine, listening to the laughing and the running in the yard.

"You know, Bella," Rosalie said, once again throwing me out of my fashion concentration. "Though I am disgustingly jealous of you, Sophie and Atticus are… oh, I don't even know."

"Thanks, Rosalie," Bella murmured, a pink tint creeping along her cheeks.

"Alice, how about we all go shopping together sometime? Take Sophie on a trip?"

Bella looked up from her hands. "What about Atticus and Edward?"

"Oh, I think Edward would like time with his son," Rosalie's words were rushed. "That is just so weird to say…"

"I know!" I cried, slapping my magazine shut. "When Atticus calls Edward 'father', and when Sophie says 'momma'… I always have to catch my mind up with those facts."

"I wonder how long they'll stay here…" Rosalie mused.

Bella shook her head shyly. "I just hope they don't get _hurt_ while they're here."

"Hey," I said. I could see where Bella's worries were taking her, quite literally. "Don't be so stressed about it. With a family of seven vampires and two angels (maybe even more!) watching over them, there's nothing that can go wrong!"

She smiled at me, brushing her hair over her shoulder, sending the smell of strawberries in a wave around her. "Yeah, you're right."

Edward rushed up the stairs, his hair unkempt and knotted. Before he even kissed her, I saw it and averted my eyes from the couple; Bella had always done the same for Jasper and me. But as Edward kissed her, pulled away, and laughed playfully, I let myself focus on the future that lay ahead for all of us, searching for signs of those called the Wretched and the man named Cecil.

But like film cut from a movie, the vision was gone. My stomach sank like lead and my breath stopped.

To Edward, all he heard in my rushing thoughts was, _Prada's new shoes, Chanel's new line of perfume, Louis Vutton's patchwork handbag…_

Under that veil, however, was something the exceeded concern, worry, and edginess.

Panic.

* * *

There you have it! I really enjoy writing in other character's perspectives.

Next chapter is very close to being complete, and then I have to send it off to my editor. It won't be as long of a wait as this one was.

Love, Storm.


	12. Mother

_Here we are, chapter twelve. Perhaps the hardest one to have written to date. This is a long read, my apologies._

_A colossal thank you to my editors, snowcoveredroses and ol2bob.  
_

_I'm feeling very discouraged by the lack of reviews, which makes me believe no one is really reading this anymore and writing this is a of no consequence. Please, LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! Pretty please?_

_**Music: **good question. I'm thinking something very... tedious, like the piano of New Born - Muse. But to be safe, the theme from the film Requiem for a Dream. Very powerful, I recommend it._

* * *

**"Mother"**

**EDWARD'S PERSPECTIVE.**

Very peacefully, the days continued.

My family observed my happiness throughout this period, smiling and laughing with me. I had known no greater joy—outside of Bella, of course—than the time I spent with Atticus and Sophie, my two angels. They stirred regions of my heart that I thought only Bella was able to move, and then some more distant areas that belong only in the hands of children.

Sophie, with her beautiful wide eyes, would gaze at me from the bench as I played songs for her on the piano. Out of the corner of my eye, I would watch her delicate fingers hover over the ivories, tempted to play alongside me.

"Daddy," her voice had chimed one afternoon. "Will you teach me to play the piano?"

Happily, I obliged, and she crawled onto my lap. It was a simple melody that came from my heart, as new to me as it was to her. Steadily, she committed each note to her heart, playing fluidly. She looked up at me, and said, "What is this song called?"

"This is my song for you, Sophie," I whispered.

She faced me, and flung her small, soft arms around my neck. "Oh, thank you! When I go to Heaven, I will play it for Elizabeth! She'll love it!"

And Atticus found his boyish playtime with Emmett, Jasper, and me in games that weren't a threat to his fragility. Bella sat by with Alice and Rosalie, watching with amusement, laughing with her sisters. She was particularly on edge, however, watching our every controlled move, despite my reassurances that Atticus was safe from harm.

I wondered, very vaguely, almost fleetingly, if any harm was to come to our family. The Volturi were due to check on Bella's mortality (or lack of), though I wasn't worried about them. This new threat was completely unknown to any of us. I had tried to ask Sophie and Atticus about Cecil and the Wretched, but they had told us everything they knew about them. Though the days went on without incident (even in Bella's case), there was no word from my mother, and I was becoming rather… anxious, to put it mildly.

Seeing Bella in the role of a mother was foreign to me, needless to say. I found myself wishing I could join the dinner table with my small family as they ate her dinner. For the first time in my immortality, I wanted to fall asleep with Bella after kissing them goodnight. I felt foreign knowing I didn't have a heartbeat for my children to listen to when they were cuddled in my arms. So desperately, I wanted to play with them without feeling as if I would hurt them.

"Edward," Bella whispered from the bed, curled up for sleep. "Stop worrying. You're their father and they love you, regardless."

Inserting a CD, I sighed heavily. She was right, but a small part of me yearned for those human qualities. For once, I almost understood Rosalie's wish to join the human race.

I lifted the comforter, and slipped under, drawing closer to Bella. She draped her arms around my neck, nuzzling her head into my chest. Her scent, always so fulfilling, struck me strongly, easing me into submission. I pulled her closer to me, gliding my nose along her jaw and neck. Under me, she shivered and sighed. And she says _I _dazzle _her_. Hardly the case.

"We're going to be safe, right?" She whispered sleepily.

I kissed her forehead. How could she possibly doubt her safety with me? "Of course. No one will harm you or Sophie or Atticus."

"Promise?"

"Yes, love."

And with that, she was asleep, her breathing even and deep.

No, no one would hurt my Bella again. No dog named Jacob. No witch named Victoria. No demon named Cecil. Having a family—having _Bella_—was reason enough to protect and cherish every person I loved.

With me, there was nothing to be afraid of.

--

That next morning, the children woke up before Bella, begging Emmett and Jasper to come out in the yard and play in the rain with them. Jasper, leaned against the door with a subtle smile, found me in the bedroom with a sleeping Bella.

"She's dreaming happy dreams, Edward," he whispered, a soft laugh tinting his voice. "You can come downstairs with us for a moment."

I watched her, fascinated by her sleeping form, twisted in the sheets, her thoughts silent and rested. She sighed, breathing my name in the faintest tone.

"See?" Jasper said. "She'll wake up soon and find us all downstairs. Nothing will happen to her while you're away."

This was true. Nothing happened to _her_.

The front yard was foggy with rain dripping through the trees. Rumbles of thunder crossed our paths, preceded by illuminating bursts of lightning. Yet Sophie and Atticus didn't mind. It became gloriously clear to me that my cold body didn't affect them, nor were they in danger of catching a cold from the rainy weather they loved to play in so dearly.

"Emmett, it's your turn to count!"

"Aw, come on, Sophie, I always have to count…"

She giggled, clutching my hand. "You're too _big_ to be able to hide anywhere without someone finding you first!"

"Is that so, little miss?" Emmett playfully growled, hunkering down like a bear. She jumped back, and then giggled. "I bet I could lift you _and_ your brother and hide you some place real high where not even tall ol' Jasper could get you down from!"

Sophie let out a little scream, and then laughed from behind me again. _Too bad Rose can't have any kids of her own, _Emmett thought, his sad grin lopsided. _I'd like to think I'd be pretty good with one._

"Let's just start the game!" Atticus cried. "I don't want Em to get us…"

We dispersed as Emmett hid his face in a broad tree, diligently counting to the designated number twenty. I heard him cry, "Aha!" and then Jasper mutter a profanity as they began to dart around the front yard, Emmett desperate to tag him. Sophie squealed when Emmett scooped her up in his thick arms from behind, swinging her around in circles. I was perched in my tree, checking for Emmett. It was so easy to get wrapped up in children's games…

"Got you, Edward!" Emmett shouted as he grabbed my heel, dragging me down on top of him. We laughed as we righted ourselves, brushing the mud from our knees and hands.

_It's great to feel like a kid again,_ Emmett wistfully thought.

"Where's Atticus?" Sophie said, looking around the trees. Emmett shrugged, looking around the yard. "Atticus, where are you?"

There was no answer.

"Atticus, really! The game is over!"

Again, there was no answer.

"Alle, alle auch sind frei!" She shouted, her hands cupped around her mouth.

This time, a distinct scream rose up from the tree line, lost in fog. It was Atticus, clear and sharp. And his cry was not one of play or humor; it was of terror and panic.

Sophie looked at me, her beautiful eyes wide and frightened. Her mouth hung open, shaking as she tried to snap it shut. She darted past me, facing the forest. A deep growl of thunder shook the sky, a small whimper escaping Sophie. She glanced at me over her shoulder. "Daddy, I love you and tell momma that I love her, too," she looked back at the wall of fog. "But I have to save Atticus because something really bad is happening…"

And with that, she had disappeared, her small frame a smudge in the distant grey cloud of the forest.

"Where did she go?" Emmett shouted. He advanced in her direction. "Come on, we have to go get her!"

Dread swelled in my throat. Sophie and Atticus had vanished, gone into the dark forest.

"Jasper, would you please go tell Carlisle what happened?" I spoke, my voice strangled and rushed. "If you can, find Alice, Rosalie, and—"

"Edward, we're right here," I spun around and saw Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Alice rushing quickly from the house. Esme was the one who had spoken, her soft voice on edge. "Alice saw Sophie disappear into the forest."

I faced Alice, her eyes drilling the ground as she scanned through her visions for Atticus's exit. Nothing came. "Alice, are you sure you didn't see…?"

She nodded quickly. "Yes, Edward, and I'm so sorry…" she lifted her head, determination and worry on her dainty features. "We don't have time to lose. We'll split up and search the forest."

I nodded, my lips drawn taut, and watched as everyone, excluding Carlisle and myself, ran off into the fog. My father held my gaze, his thoughts a flurry of apologies, anger, and confusion. "Edward, what exactly happened?"

Slowly, I whispered the last ten minutes to him, interrupted only by the mumbling sky. Carlisle, ever so patient, listened with a grim and straight face. I was unspeakably furious at myself for letting the children run off. I should have been in tune to their thoughts, listening to where Atticus was and why Sophie had suspected danger. But, I realized, there was no indication of their thoughts—not even a mark of the _missing_ ones. It was like they weren't even there…

I had lost Sophie and Atticus to danger.

That was the only thought I seemed to grasp.

--

**BELLA'S PERSPECTIVE.**

"_No! Please! Let us go!" That was Sophie._

_Atticus sobbed, hysterical and terrified._

_A sick, bloody grin filled my mind's eyes. Black red blood caked the teeth, the corners of the mouth, the lips. Slowly, languidly, it spread to reveal the emptiness, and a deep, lulling laugh flooded my face, my ears, my senses, until—_

I woke up, shaking and panting and sweating.

"It was just a dream…" I whispered, my head in my hands. "They're fine."

Edward wasn't in the room, which was to be expected at this time. It was nearly noon, and I was inwardly ashamed that I had slept in so late. In the window, rain and fog lucidly greeted me, hovering just beyond my warm sanctuary.

Fighting off sleep, I pulled on some jeans and a sweater. Sophie and Atticus either were already outside playing or would want to go outside to play. In any case, it would be cold and I did not like the cold.

I found my way through the house to the deserted living room. Daytime television was playing—probably Alice or Rosalie's doing. Esme and Carlisle were nowhere to be found, nor were Jasper, Emmett, or Edward. And Sophie and Atticus…

A roll of fear tumbled across my chest. I wasn't alone, was I?

Then, I heard Edward's raised voice from the front yard.

"Alice! No!"

"Edward, don't be like that!" Did Alice really just _screech_?

I let out a sigh of relief, making my way to the front door. At least we were all okay…

The Cullens were standing just in front of the porch stairs in a tight knot. I scanned them to find Atticus and Sophie, and I immediately felt that same fear rise up in me—they weren't there. The Cullens weren't at ease nor were they laughing. Something was wrong.

"Bella…" Alice said, cautiously watching me.

I didn't say anything, just studying their expressions. Rosalie was mildly upset and Esme had her arms crossed. Carlisle was rubbing his temples, Jasper's lips were pursed, and Emmett was shaking his head. And Edward was pacing back and forth, his face captured in distress.

"What's going on?" I choked out.

Everyone looked at one another, and then at Edward, waiting for his explanation. My heart thrummed impatiently in my chest as he looked at me, his brow creased and his eyes swimming with something beyond worry—was it panic? I shifted my weight to the other foot and looked at the wooden porch.

He was in front of me then, gripping my shoulders. When I looked up, his face was inches from my own, and his breath was sweet and dizzying. I closed my eyes, waiting. "Edward…?"

"Bella," he whispered. "I don't know how else to tell you this without it sounding wretched. I wish I knew how to say it without breaking both of our hearts. I really do, love—"

"Just tell me what has happened!" I cried. Dangerous tears stung the corners of eyes, which he quickly swept away with his fingertips.

The words, delayed by steady inhales and exhales, sat in a febrile silence, ardent with anticipation. Finally, he pursed his lips, closed his eyes, and whispered, "Atticus and Sophie are gone."

It was instantaneous, the blow that knocked me to my knees, crumpling me like a dried leaf. Something hollow gnawed at my insides, imploring my sadness to overflow my face. I heaved, shivering as Edward pulled me into his arms, sobbing, "I'm so sorry…"

I managed to gather my voice just enough for two words. "What happened?"

With startling patience, Edward told me about how they had been playing a game of hide and seek when Atticus disappeared. Sophie called and called for him, only to be greeted with a scream of terror, which led her running into the thick forest. The Cullens had searched the forest and the yard for the children, but they were gone.

_They were gone,_ I repeated in my head.

I closed my eyes, listening to the thunder and the rain. Edward was unusually cold from the rain, his cloths soaked through and his white shirt splattered with dirt and leaves. He comforted me, at least…

And then the dream came back, fully fledged and painful. Sophie, small and delicate, was trapped in a filthy pit, bleeding and crying out for help. Her brother… I couldn't seem to find him, but the same demonic laugh swept me away, followed by her scream and sobbing…

"Bella, what's wrong?" Edward's voice, unwound and scared, broke through my thoughts.

I coughed, opening my eyes to see the Cullens crowded around me, knelt down. "I… I saw them… and heard them… They're in trouble, Edward…"

"What do you see?" Alice pressed.

"Sophie, she's in some pit, crying and bloody and everything. I don't see Atticus though," I closed my eyes, clinging to the images and sounds as they drifted from me. "And someone is laughing at them… they've got bloody teeth and this mean laugh," I paused, opening my eyes. "I had a dream about this right before I woke up. I thought it was just a nightmare, but…"

Edward exhaled steadily, calming himself. "Do you think it's… is it Cecil, Carlisle?"

"I'm not sure," Carlisle said quietly. "I don't know what his laugh is like or what he looks like. Though it sounds like his doing from what Sophie and Atticus told us."

"Oh, God…" I wept into Edward's shirt. "What are we supposed to do?"

Alice gasped sharply. I looked up at her, watching her expression twist into one of blankness and contemplation—one I knew all too well. After a moment, it passed and she relaxed. "Elizabeth will be here soon to help us," she breathed. "I see her arriving, but she doesn't know where the children are. She is willing to help us search, though…"

Edward, out of the corner of my eye, nodded and smiled slightly. "I believe that if anyone can find them, it's my mother."

Alice placed a cool, gentle hand on my elbow, smiling at me. "Come on, let's get you inside…"

We stood up to go into the house, away from the taunting forest that had stolen Sophie and Atticus. I looked over my shoulder before going on to see if any sign, anything at all, had come to help me.

And there, on the top step, was a neatly folded piece of parchment with my name beautifully inked across it.

Edward, still holding my hand, and Alice, still guiding my elbow, turned to me, and saw where I was looking. Dumbfounded, he hardly protested as I slipped my hand from his, creeping toward the paper. Shakily, I picked it up, examining it. The corners looked slightly singed and a musky scent of ash burnt my nose. I unfolded it slowly.

_"Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest, controlled the seasons, performing the divine functions of nourishing the Earth, her daughter Persephone always by her side. One day Hades, God of the Underworld, saw Persephone and fell in love with her. Over time, he concocted a plan to kidnap her. One day, as the child played with her companions, he caused the ground to split underneath her. Persephone slipped beneath the Earth, and Hades stole her to the Underworld where he made her his wife. _

"_Consumed with rage and sorrow, Demeter abandoned her divine functions in order to look for Persephone. Upon discovering her daughter's whereabouts, Hades agreed to let her go only on the condition that Persephone spends just two-thirds of the year with her mother, and return to him for the other third of the year, to live as his bride, Queen of the Underworld…_"

Inscribed at the bottom in dark red ink were the words, "If I were to change the names and the places, it would almost be your story, Bella." Below that was a flourishing signature. "Cecil, God of the Underworld."

"Love, what's wrong?" I jumped at Edward's voice behind me. He glanced at the parchment, and his eyes soon darkened in curiosity.

"What is that?" Alice asked before Edward was able to reach his voice.

I offered it to him, my mouth hanging open. There was nothing to say—or, at least, I couldn't find it. My thoughts, unreadable to Edward, thankfully, swam in a sea of something or another, but even that I didn't know. All I knew was that—

"Absolutely not," Edward said softly. As Alice snatched the letter from his hands, his eyes fell shut, his head moving slightly from side to side. When he opened them, they were as black as the bloody mouth in my dream, saturated in hatred. "There is absolutely no way in _hell_..." He turned to the house, away from me, crying out. "CARLISLE!"

I was gone before Carlisle came to Edward's mental rescue.

I had fallen into some deep collapsed reality where a small girl danced around me, laughing and singing with me, beating and kicking me…

--

_It was very murky, the dream was._

_There were tall, looming silhouettes balanced perfectly before me in the air. They were not on the ground, or the trees that stretched their tendrils towards me. They floated. It was a stiff sight reminiscent to hanged victims of horror movies._

_Sophie screamed. Atticus wept. They were alive, thank God!_

_As I made my way to the direction of the cries—which were all around me, leaving me no sense of direction—the floating things (at least, that's what I presumed the voices to belong to) began chanting, uttering, praying._

_"Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in Heaven," Past them, I heard Sophie cry out in protest, but the voices held me. "Give us today our daily bread and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors," Something clanged, like a hollow bell trying to find a voice. Still, I stood, listening. "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever," The words swelled, numbing and rocking me. "Amen."_

_The figures hovered momentarily, and then slowly came to the ground. A hand gripped my neck from behind, and a cool, suave voice—much like Edward's—fell upon my ear._

_"To save your angel-children, Bella, you must stand just beyond the tree line at exactly three hours past midnight," Something liquid snapped in my ear—then I smelt the salty rust of blood. "Or they won't be the only ones to suffer."_

"Bella? Love, wake up…"

My eyes opened, the dream still floating in my head like a dead leaf in a pond. I was in the bedroom, on the bed, with Edward leaned over me. The distress that lined his features was rooted deeper than worry for me; I quickly and painfully recalled the disappearance of our children… and the screams of Sophie and Atticus in my subconscious…

"I'm okay," I mumbled. "I just had a nightmare…"

_A very realistic nightmare, might I add._

He gently pulled me into his arms. "I'm sorry. Are you alright?"

I nodded, trying to resurrect the nightmare's directions. "I'm okay," I repeated.

Had I said it too quickly? Was he going to question me about my dream? The beckon by the bodiless voice echoed in my mind…

Edward glanced at the green light glowing from the side table. "Do you realize what time it is?"

"No," I glanced at the clock, rubbing my eyes. "It's almost three?" I asked incredulously.

_At exactly three hours past midnight…_

"You really ought to get some sleep, love," he whispered. I noticed a new edge to his voice—weary and defeated, yet devising and insistent. Of course, their disappearance would have an effect like this on him—why would it not? I could only imagine what had happened while I was asleep in our bedroom. The planning, the anger, and the facts.

I cleared my throat. "Edward?"

"Hm?"

I looked up at him, and saw, for the first time, that he looked older. His beautiful, topaz eyes had diminished to a burnt, sun bleached gold. He had turned a sallow pale, as opposed to his beautiful fair complexion. I could tell he had been in the woods since, because his hair was disheveled and his clothes were ripped and dirtied.

I loved this man, torn and beaten.

"It… it's going to be all right," I whispered against his chest, kissing the spot of skin beneath his collarbone.

Edward closed his eyes, impossibly still. I couldn't feel his steady breathing, whether regular or irregular. He pressed his lips tightly together, but that didn't muffle the small choked sob that rattled his body. Quickly, he pulled me closer against him, gently shaking.

"Bella, I am so sorry," he said raggedly. "I am sorry I let that demon steal Sophie and Atticus. I am so sorry that Jacob hurt you. I am so sorry that this is happening to us, to our family!" He held me away, looking into my eyes. He quickly brushed the tears away. "Please, don't cry, love."

I attempted a smile, which I'm sure only looked like a crooked frown. "I'm trying not to."

Edward nodded. "Me, too," he lifted his eyes, the familiar look creeping back. "I want to be strong for you, Bella. I don't want anyone to hurt you."

"It's okay," I croaked. "Sophie and Atticus… we'll get them back, and everything will be fine," I stretched forward, kissing the corner of his mouth. "We just need to get a grip on the situation. Elizabeth will be here and she's going to help us."

His smile gingerly touched his eyes as he studied my face. "Of course," he murmured, kissing my hair. "Everything will be alright…"

I pressed myself closer to him, burying myself. For a moment, I wished that all reality beyond our bedroom was erased. Just Edward and I, alone and perfect for the rest of eternity. Outside it would always be that odd union of night and day—twilight, stretched towards forever. I could revel in his beauty—the glittering of his skin, the deep ocher of his eyes, the flawless porcelain of his body. That was my dreamland.

But a battalion of horror swept across my fantasy's horizon, blasting away my happiness, imprisoning my Edward. Dark, fog figures compromised the army—the cries were of my lost children—their battle cry, "Our Father, which art in Heaven…"

Edward lifted my chin, his lips gently touching mine. "Are you hungry, Bella?"

_This is your chance,_ a voice whispered. _This is your chance to save your children._

_But I'm just acting on a dream! _I countered.

_It was so realistic, though, _the voice continued, closing in on my reason. _Cecil probably wants to free your children in your place. Isn't their release so much more valuable than your own happy independence?_

I considered this. Edward was so worried about Sophie and Atticus—would he even exert the same energy to find me? What if this was the sacrifice I had to make? It wouldn't be the first time…

_No, Edward would be devastated without me! _ My reason cried.

_But they would find you,_ Instinct insisted. _They always do. Things always work out in favor of an angel, especially you. What does that verse say? "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for thou art with me."_

I swallowed, nodding quickly. "Yes, I'm hungry." …_In the forest at three A.M. I've got five minutes._

Edward smiled, kissing me on the mouth—for the last time? "I'll go hunt you something."

"No mountain lions, please."

He laughed heartily, gracefully lifting himself off the bed, striding towards the door. He gripped the door handle, but not before—"Edward?"

"Yes, love?"

I pushed my smile harder than I ever had—no one, not even Charlie and Jacob in my darker days, had witnessed this before. I inhaled deeply to keep my throat from closing, blinking my eyes to keep from crying. "I love you, no matter what happens."

"You mean the world to me, Bella," he whispered, opening the door. The light from the hall turned him into a silhouette, his beautiful bronze hair yet another halo around his head. "I love you, too."

And with that, he was gone.

_This is my chance_, my mind repeated like a mantra. I found a sheet of paper, and scrawled a note on it, just like I had done before I encountered James. The pen spat out ink as I wrote, my handwriting frightened and jittery. I felt myself crying, sobs trying to break through my lips, but I clapped a hand harshly over my mouth.

With the note folded and set on my pillow, I looked around the room, taking in my sanctuary, committing each part of it to my memory. So many memories floated around me, trying to anchor me down—the first time I met his family… nights spent in his arms… our compromise… my wedding night...

No. I had to save my children. They were not going to die.

Draped across his black leather couch was his grey pea coat. I seized it, pulling my arms through it; I had to have something of his to cling to, to hold when I missed him the most—whether in Hell or as I lay dying.

Without another look, I rushed down the stairs, listening for the Cullens. Emmett was laughing, as usual, followed by a smooth remark made by Edward. At the sound of his voice, I nearly collapsed on the stairs, but I kept going, I had to keep moving…

Unbeknownst to me, I was soon in the front yard, the misting rain dusting my body. I stood silently, waiting for the Cullens to ambush me, pulling me back inside—Edward demanding what I was doing, with Alice following close behind.

How could she not know what I was doing?

I made me way to the trees, my bare feet numb from the damp, cold ground. Blades of grass and fallen leaves clung to my ankles, each one a reminder of the hearts I was breaking…

Alice, who had lost her best friend…

Rosalie, who I was finally making amends with…

Emmett, who would always be my big brother…

Jasper, who looked out for me, whether I knew it or not…

Esme, whose heart sang at the sight of her happy son…

Carlisle, who stood by my side in each decision I made and each pitfall I stumbled into…

And Edward… God, I couldn't even think of him…

The black forest loomed only a yard away from me. I pulled the coat around me; if I let my imagination take control, it was almost like Edward was holding me in my arms… begging me to come back into the warm, safe home…

_What a temptation! _ I thought as I shakily stepped into the woods.

The darkness inside the forest was like a steel curtain from the front yard of my family. I could see it through the bleary rain: the windows, golden with light, beckoned me, inviting me to curl up in Edward's arms, in love and secure…

What brought me back to reality wasn't my stringy hair, stuck to my cheek from the rain, or the mud that caked the bottom of my feet. It was the soft footsteps I heard in the forest, slowly coming towards me.

"Bella?" It was Edward, crying out from the house! My heart leapt, and I thought for one flicker in time that I wouldn't _have_ to make this sacrifice!

A deep, throaty laugh followed shortly after his calling, closer to me. "Bella? Where are you, Bella?"

It was near. _He_ was near.

"Isabella! Answer us!" Carlisle. Why had he said my full name?

I heard a branch snap to my right, and a smooth laugh echoed it. "Persephone, answer me!"

My fingers, slick and cold from the rain, curled into fists, my nails cutting into my palm. Distantly, I felt the blood leak out of my skin, taut as a canvas…

"Carlisle, I smell it! Her blood…!"

The musky scent of brimstone churned around me. I felt my breath slipping out of me, but I was unable to collect it back in my lungs. A strange voice came out of my throat, though I knew it was mine… "Our Father, which art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…"

Sophie's scream echoed in my head…

"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven."

Far away, a bizarre, frightening keening cry lifted to the stars. _My children!_

Tears, if there were truly any left, crept out of my eyes. "Give us today our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors…"

The Cullens, frantically arguing, sounded a million miles away… _Please, save me._

"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever."

A hand reached out to me, gripping my arm with a striking pressure. I scream escaped my mouth, but not before another hot, strong hand clamped over my mouth. It was desperate and pathetic, my cry was. But they had to have heard it—they _had_ to have! And they would save me, I knew it. Edward would save me, they all would…

"Oh, Bella," the suave voice from my nightmare sang. "You didn't finish your prayer…"

I whimpered, disgusted with myself.

"What's the last word?" Cecil demanded, his numbing breath hitting my ear. "Say it for your children, Bella."

"Where are you?" My heart broke as he cried out for me…

Cecil spun me around to face him, but I couldn't look. "Say it for your Edward, Bella!" He demanded. "Let them know where you are! Let them know who you're with!"

I choke back the vomit that was pooling in my throat. "Amen…"

"No, say it _louder_, Bella!"

"Amen—!" My voice was haggard—shattered—desperate—pathetic.

"I heard her!" Edward cried. "Over here!"

Cecil clutched me to him, his thick scent of fire overpowering me. The images that were trying to form in my mind—

(_Edward was tearing through the forest, crying out for me as Carlisle held a broken Esme on the porch. Rosalie stared in disgust at the forest as Emmett and Jasper tore after Edward, leaving Alice alone, absently staring at the sky…_)

—were vanquished by the heated smell of Cecil. My eyes, wide and swollen, began to still as my mind drifted into some lost haze, indifferent to the cries and despondent to the man stealing me, taking me to my angel-children…

_I was just trying to be a good mother_, was all I could manage to think.

* * *

"Alle, alle auch sind frei" _- Do you remember when you would yell "Olly olly oxen free!" after a game when you were little? Yeah, that's it! It's derived from the German phrase that means, "Everyone, everyone also is free!" You can look it up on Wikipedia for more info._

_I would apologize for the suspenseful ending of this chapter, but I won't! Instead, sit tight for the next chapter._

_If I get reviews, however, I will feel the need to write quickly. :D_

_Love, Storm_


	13. Game

_Yes, yes, I know. I'm sorry for the absence. I'm sure you thought a) "She's abandoned this story" b) "That was a really dumb ending to this story!" or c) "This cliffhanger is killing me". Well, whether you thought a, b, or c... it doesn't matter because this is chapter 13!_

_This particular story will probably be drawing to a close soon, though I can't say how many more chapters we've got until then. I don't know how many of us will still want to read Twilight fanfiction once we've got our greedy little hands on _Breaking Dawn_ (I'll probably be holed up in my room for a few days)... but I'll tell you, I will finish this story. I've also got a few other ideas for some stories, as well... one kind of lengthy, and a few others are just fun little one shots._

_**Music:** Sia - Breathe Me. I don't watch Six Feet Under, but I love Sia, and apparently this song was totally amazing on the last season's last episode or something. It's a beautiful, tragic song._

* * *

**"Game"**

**EDWARD'S PERSPECTIVE**

The second I heard the door click shut, I knew something was amiss. However, it was a subtle discoloration of events—shamefully, I dismissed the feeling just as easily as if they were the fickle, pathetic voices of the children at the high school.

A part in me screamed to turn around and check on Bella, refused to leave her side. Something fueled the will to move my hand and open the door and pull her into my arms. Gently yet fiercely, a voice pleaded with me, confirming my fears that Bella was only feigning her happiness and optimism.

As I made my way to the kitchen, the thoughts of my family rolled through my head, but for once, I did not have to try to hinder them—their inner musings, monologues, and misgivings were shuffled under my own.

The anxiety that was fastened to my mind was different than any form of it I had experienced before. I had been concerned for my mother's health as she died; I paced across floorboards as I hunted for James, stricken with horror at the very thought of being separated from Bella; my thoughts were repeatedly devastated after I left her; and no being alive (or perhaps even deceased) can fathom my heartache as I lived day to day, wondering where Victoria lurked and when she planned to strike again…

No, this was exceedingly different. Sophie and Atticus were missing, swept away by this creature, Cecil, whom stirred loathing, dread, and fury in my standstill heart. If blood were to course my veins, it would boil with the hatred I felt for Cecil and Jacob, the two men who were out to destroy the happiness our family was slowly recapturing.

My despicable thoughts were subsided as I came to the living room, where I saw Jasper fastened securely in Emmett's headlock. At least _they_ were not suffering, sunken in sadness…

"Emmett, really," Jasper reasoned, eying me as I passed by to the kitchen. _Get me out of this, would you, Edward?_ "I'm not in the mood for wrestling…"

My bear-like brother cackled, and glanced up at me as I made my way by him. His thoughts, playful to begin with, came to a cinched halt. "Oh, hell, Edward. What's wrong with you?"

I turned in the doorway, studying him. He had released Jasper, who collapsed to the ground from the force of his struggles. I tilted my head. "What do you mean?"

Emmett and Jasper exchanged glances, searching for the correct word, the satisfying phrase. "You look… _tired_," Jasper concluded after a moment's pause.

"I didn't think it was possible for a vampire to look tired," Emmett said. I presumed this to be an attempt to discuss Sophie and Atticus, stinging like venom. Waving it off, I went into the kitchen, silently searching the cabinets for food.

Jasper and Emmett were in the kitchen soon, sitting at the bar on the stools. Emmett was hunched over while Jasper sat up fairly straight, tracing the lines in the tiles as he spoke. "Maybe, over time, we become like the legends and actually do a little sleeping," he mused, serenely soothing my sadness. "Perhaps Esme ought to invest some in coffins. Do you imagine that Dior would specialize in designing one for Alice? Would she prefer pink, or perhaps a more fashionable neutral color?"

Emmett's laugh bellowed throughout the house, audible to Bella, I'm sure, who was safely resting in bed. I couldn't suppress the smile, however, as I set up the cooking utensils on the counter. I looked up and saw Jasper quite pleased with himself. "Yes, Jasper, I think that would be a good idea," I began, pleasantly, and then, "In fact, I'm almost certain that MTV would be interested in making a show out of it," Emmett had stopped laughing, settling for a sunny smile. "It could be like _Cribs_, but _Crypts _would exclusively feature vampires."

"Maybe Aro could be the host!" Emmett said between laughs. "I bet the Volturi would_ love_ the idea!"

For the first time that day, the panic and heartbreak melted away as I laughed with my brothers, seeing their mental images of Caius parading about the castle, showcasing the bloody dungeons and horrific hallways. Even stoic Jasper laughed with us, howling and shaking with hysterics.

And then Alice appeared in the kitchen, her eyes wild with fear and anger.

"How did we not see this, Edward?" She growled, her voice keening and harrowing. "How in the _hell_ did she get past us?"

"Alice," Jasper said, smoothing all traces of laughter from his features. "What are you talking about?"

She glared at me, though whether the abhorrent look that glinted in her eyes was meant for me, I was unsure. "She's _left_, Edward," she spat. "Bella. Has. Left."

"What do you mean?" Emmett said, darting around the counter.

Alice held up a letter in front of her small face. I tried to read it, but she was shaking with so much anger, it was nearly impossible. Snatching it from her hand, I immediately recognized Bella's handwriting, frighteningly shaky and rushed. I felt Emmett and Jasper crowd around Alice and I, reading over my shoulder.

_Edward_, it began. _I'm the most miserable excuse for a mother and wife, and I am so sorry. I have gone to meet Cecil—I think that's who it is—in the forest. He came to me in a dream and told me that if I didn't meet him at exactly three, people would be hurt. I don't know what else to do, but I do know that no one else is going to get hurt. Edward, it's the __only way__ to save Sophie and Atticus. I don't know what I'll have to do to free them, but whatever it is that happens, please know that I love you and you will always have my heart. I am so, so, so sorry for this. I love you. Forgive me. Bella._

I was unaware of the world that spun dangerously from beneath me. I did not remember as I stormed out of the kitchen, shoving past Carlisle, seething hateful words unknown to me. I cannot recall how each member of the family congregated behind me, spreading out of the house in every direction, looking for Bella.

"Bella?" I cried from the porch, searching the trees, the ground. Nothing.

Carlisle went into the yard, peering through the night. He slowly revolved, looking in every direction. "Isabella!" He cried, his hands cupped around his mouth. "Answer us!"

I closed my eyes, desperately hunting for any thoughts, any sounds, any scent that would lead me to her. Nothing… until the sweet, irresistible scent pricked my nose. My eyes snapped open. "Carlisle, I smell it!" I shouted, running into the yard with him. The mist stuck to him, dampening his hair and his skin. "Her blood…!"

Esme, who had just ventured from the house, covered her mouth and nose quickly. "That smell! What is it?"

Carlisle and I inhaled at once as Esme came to the yard with us, covering her nose, her eyes tensed up. The strong incense of something burning—no, a million somethings burning, _had_ been burning for an immeasurable amount of time, all at once—stung my nostrils. It was far worse than any werewolf, as it struck my core, suffocating me.

"Carlisle, what's wrong?" Esme whispered through her hand.

My father and I exchanged looks, our faces covered as well. He looked at his wife—safe, unharmed, _here_—and said, "Bella's gone, too."

The thought occurred to me, blinding me. Why was I standing by, not searching for her? She was gone. Could I let her disappear with such ease? Could I allow Cecil to steal her from me?

_No_, I thought to myself as I charged into the forest, tearing through the trees and filth searching for her, crying out for her. "Where are you?" My voice cracked, raw from the continuous heartbreak that throbbed throughout my being.

I had promised I would protect her. And I had failed.

Somewhere, I heard Bella's voice, though what she cried out was indecipherable. Yet I knew it was her, just as the piano knows only its sound, just as the singer possesses her own voice.

The twigs and leaves were matted in my hair, my face caked with dirt. "I heard her!" I shouted, hoping my family could hear me. "Over here!"

And I continued to scour the forest, crying out for her and begging for her to come to me. Each shadow held her form, each sound was her voice. I reached out for her arm, only to grab hold of a fallen tree limb, sodden and rotten. Fortunately, I would cross paths with Carlisle or maybe Alice.

"I caught her scent, but then it was gone just as soon as I had it," Esme said, apologetic and sorrowful.

Emmett, if I saw him, would look up and attempt a crooked smile. _No sign of her yet… _he told me. But his thoughts would betray him: _I don't think we'll find her._

Once I saw Rosalie, who was leaned against a tree, motionless. Her angry and sad thoughts swam through the forest around her, silently cursing Bella, yet pleading with Fate that she was safe. I did not disturb her.

Though I never saw Jasper, I felt his constant antidotes of reassurance and optimism. At least he was trying to see the lighter side of things.

Over time, I felt my body weaken beneath me, turning my legs to brittle strength. My head, heavy and confused by the repeating forest, did not recognize my voice as I called for Bella, nor did it acknowledge the voices of my family as they called for me. It was all there, gripping at my limbs with the substance and touch of a ghoul, but it never stopped me, never once made me consider stopping. The bracken swatted at me, hissing and mocking my wasted efforts.

Then, I collided with something very bright and very overwhelming.

"Edward."

I lifted my head from the muddy ground toward the source of the voice, and I saw my mother already kneeling down to me, her ivory hand extended towards me. She was incredibly glorious, aglow from within; her eyes, so brilliantly green, were like glass in that I could see into her, see the flame that stoked her shine. Her hair, bronze like mine, draped down her back and shoulders, sparkling as if embedded with gemstones. Yet the most fascinating of all were the vast, white wings neatly folded against her back. And silhouetting her crown was a golden halo, illuminating the darkness.

As she pulled me into her arms, she soothed my already broken sobs. She was so incredibly warm…

"She's gone," I choked out. "He took her."

"Yes, I know," my mother whispered into my ear, stroking my hair. "I saw it happen, but by that time, it was too late to stop him. I should have come sooner. I am so sorry."

"Is she okay? Can we save her from him?" Though I meant them as questions, they came out as pathetic pleas.

She kissed my forehead. "Yes, we can save her, but it will not be an easy task."

"What will we have to do?" I whispered into her shoulder, my eyes flooded with light.

"Let's find your home, and we can discuss it then," my mother said. She placed her hand under my elbow, and lifted me as we stood up and made our way through the forest. The darkness shuddered and ran from Elizabeth as she illuminated the way. I couldn't help but think of the irony of our relationship now—an angelic mother leading her dark-hearted son through the wilderness. I almost laughed.

"You never answered my question," I spoke as the thought occurred.

She didn't answer immediately, though her expression was thick with thought. Steadily, she breathed in, and looked at me. "I believe she will be okay if we can get to her in time."

"What do you mean, in time?"

"I do not think it is in Cecil's nature to want to hurt his trophy, but if we don't get to her in time, she might not want to come home," she said as we approached the house. "Cecil is a manipulator, and he will start the moment he can."

Carlisle's thoughts interrupted me before I could respond. I looked up towards the house and watched as he emerged from the front door, coming down the porch to meet me. His eyes fell on Elizabeth, and he was inwardly awed at her appearance.

My mother smiled at him, and bowed her head. "Hello, Carlisle," she said. "It's a blessed pleasure to finally meet you. I am unable to express my gratitude for caring for my son when I could not."

Carlisle gaped at her for a moment, his thoughts a swirl of awe and confusion. Eventually, he managed a deep nod, which provoked his voice. "It has been an… honor. And it is a particular honor to properly speak with you, Mrs. Masen."

She smiled at him as though she were about to laugh. "Please, you may call me Elizabeth."

"Yes, of course," Carlisle said, his eyes darting to mine. _Did you find Bella?_

I pursed my lips and drew my brow together before I averted my eyes to the side, and then back to him.

His mind swam in regret, only to be interrupted by my mother's presence. "Would you come in, Elizabeth? I'm certain you know what has happened…?" He trailed of suggestively, unable to finish the question.

She lifted her chin. "I came to help your family. Not to mourn her or grieve over her absence, but to rescue her."

Carlisle nodded confidently before he motioned towards the house, leading us. As we walked to the house, I listened to his internal anxious monologue, slowly picking apart what Elizabeth meant and where Bella was, while another part of his mind tried to draw up plans of recovery for her. Carlisle, thoughtful as always.

A peculiar thing happened as we came closer to the light of the house, and particularly inside the house. My mother's halo and wings, so radiant and glorious in the dark, had completely vanished once she was inside. They had faded away, gone like ghosts…

In the living room, Emmett and Jasper were sitting on the couch, hunched over the coffee table. Their voices were low, but I knew they were looking at a map, charting where each family member had searched. Had they really covered nearly all forest within a seven-mile radius? Esme and Rosalie stood by the window, looking out at the black face of night, and Alice sat cross-legged on the ground, her head in her hands. Furiously, she was tearing through visions of the future, searching for anything…

Carlisle cleared his throat and made his way farther into the living room. Each member looked up, first to Carlisle, then to me, and finally at Elizabeth. It was a moment of stillness, even in their minds. With a gearshift, everyone realized whom this woman with the bronze hair and green eyes was. The peace that settled around the room was not brought by Jasper, but by my mother.

"This is Elizabeth, Edward's mother," Carlisle said, though his preface was truly unnecessary. "She has come to… help."

"With finding Bella?" Esme asked, hope sparkling in her eyes.

"Yes," Carlisle said with a smile.

Alice's eyes widened and her back straightened. "So finding Bella is possible? She'll be safe?"

Elizabeth tried a smile, though small as it was. "Yes, it's possible," She went to the nearest chair, and sat down. "Bella—as well as Atticus and Sophie—have been captured by Cecil, whose identity and intentions you know of. Correct?" Each nodded. "Right now, it is hard to say whether Bella is on this physical plane or not, such as Heaven, Hell, or Limbo. She is certainly not in Heaven, since Cecil not Lucifer has access to it. I highly doubt she is already in Hell; she must be conditioned for that plane of living."

"So, purgatory, then?" Alice asked.

She nodded. "We may know her location, but we still have to take into consideration many aspects of the problem. First of all, getting there collectively will not be easy." Her eyes wandered from each of us to the next. "We would have to go separately, or in couples. Also, the actual act of getting Bella from Cecil will not be easy for many reasons. Cecil isn't a fool; he isn't unguarded or far from Bella and the children.

"But, we do have a bit of an upper hand in all of this." She smiled at me, and I realized for the first time how horrified I must look. "Though our number seems like a disadvantage, it's not. Though many of us don't like to admit it, vampires and angels work well together. And Cecil doesn't know that I'm on your side, because if he did, Bella would not be alive." My mother glanced at me, gauging my reaction before continuing. "And I know she is." Delicately, she lifted a small silver chain from her neck with a familiar key among others dangling from the end. "Sophie had a necklace like this, which was her and Atticus's way back to Heaven. Think of it as a house key." She searched through them, and separated a foggy glass key from the others. "This is the key to purgatory."

"And what's purgatory like?" Rosalie asked, her arms crossed.

"Exactly like it is here, only different. The locations don't differ, but the settings do. It's like an alternate universe, characterized according to the place. It sounds complicated, but once you experience it, you will understand it." She waved it off. "That, too, is an advantage. We won't be wondering around a world we don't know, searching for them."

"So now that we know what we plan to do," Carlisle said after a moment, moving closer into the group. "I'm wondering why Cecil and Jacob stole Atticus and Sophie."

"A ploy to get Bella to come to him," Elizabeth answered immediately. "The note she left behind tells us that."

Alice jumped up, pacing the living room at a quick speed. "But… I can't _see_ anything… I have no idea what's going to happen." She spun around and faced my mother, her face sunk in distressed thought. "Why can't I see anything but black when I search for Bella or Jacob or any of them?"

"Cecil is an incarnation of pure evil," Elizabeth started off slowly. "He's such a terrible being, he blocks himself from those kind of visions and powers, I believe. I don't think Edward could hear his thoughts, and I doubt Jasper would be able to have an influence on his heart. His treachery is so dark, it veils him completely."

In the very pit of my frozen body, I felt a lurch. Something stirred there—a warning. My Bella, my true love and life, was in the hands of a madman deluded by evil. And Jacob the rapist was probably there as well, and he was most certainly not holding her hand through all of this. Behind my eyelids, I saw Bella crying and screaming for help, hurt and broken like she was that day in the ballet studio…

And then the phone rang.

By the time I pulled myself out of my reverie, Esme had already answered the phone. Her mouth hung open, trying to form words, and she pulled it away from her ear as if it smelt wretched. She held it out offering it to me. Hastily and panicked, I made my way across the room and took it from her hand.

"Yes?" I demanded.

"Edward, please?" The voice, a man's, was cool and collected, yet there was a noticeable rasp to it.

"Yes, this is Edward. Who is this?"

"Is Bella there, please?" The man asked again.

My heart dropped, and I closed my eyes. "No, Bella is not here."

There was a silence, but it was shortly shattered by a laugh so horrendous and so maniacal, even I was startled and nearly dropped the phone. "Of course she isn't!"

And in the background, I heard Bella crying my name, screaming and sobbing.

"Where is she?!" I shouted into the receiver. I flew to the window, searching out of it. "Bella, where are you?!"

"Oh, calm down, Edward," the man said, the laugh still reflected in his voice. "Honestly, one would think you had lost something you truly care for."

A snarl ripped from my chest as I used every ounce of control to keep from breaking the telephone.

"Don't behave like that; the children can hear you," he taunted. "Now, would you like to hear the rules or are you going to continue overreacting like this?"

"The rules?"

"Ah, yes, I knew that would be your option," the man said. "As we don't have name tags, allow me to introduce myself to you." As soon as he said these words, a cold that even I could feel settled around me. A breeze passed around me, cold and chilling. "My name is Cecil. Perhaps you've heard of me? I'm sure Elizabeth has spread the gossip."

"Yes, I know who you are," I said, my words shaky with restrain. "We all know who you are."

For a moment, he didn't answer me, but I heard the soft murmuring of him speaking to someone else. Distantly, I heard Bella pleading with him through her tears, recognizable even through the telephone, and then I heard something snap like a book thrown against a wall. She let out a scream, terrified and hurt, followed by the cries of fear from Sophie and Atticus. Cecil let out a small laugh. "Bella is having a hard time understanding the rules herself," he said, as if he were sharing common knowledge with me that I understood. "She hasn't even been with me a day and she's already being stained a lovely red with some black and blue to accent her beauty. She's almost unrecognizable; she's taken on such a makeover!"

"Stop hurting her!" I heard myself cry. "Please, stop touching her…"

"Why would I do that?" Cecil asked. "She enjoys it so much. Don't you, Bella? Her favorite is when I do this…" he trailed off, only to be picked up by Bella's whimpering. He laughed softly. "Anyway, the rules. You and your little family have six days to find out where I am and steal her and the children back. That sounds simple enough, but rest assured, it isn't. If you fail to do so, Bella and I will make our way home, assuming you've abandoned her, and the children will be disposed of," Cecil whispered the next phrase, not wanting Bella to hear. "Also, if she eats something or gives into _me,_ her change will begin."

"What do you mean by 'change'?"

He ignored my question. "Of course, Bella and the children have their own set of rules to follow. You wouldn't believe how much she talks about you, Edward! It's always, 'Edward will do this, Edward will do that, Edward loves me!' Every time she mentions you, it's like a slap in the face." He laughed lightly again. "Come, Bella, Edward wants you hear your voice! Cry out for him, love!"

"No, Bella! Don't!" I shouted into the phone, but her pleadings and sobs overrode mine, filling my ear and breaking my heart.

"Edward, please! We're here! Please, Edward, don't leave us—!" Promptly, I heard two crashing sounds, and then her uncontrollable sobbing.

Cecil sighed heavily. "She just won't learn, will she? Was she like this with you, Edward? Did she ever listen to you? She certainly won't listen to me."

"Because you're a monster, Cecil. You don't—"

"Ah, ah, ah," he scolded. "Don't be a hypocrite, Edward," Cecil trilled a laugh, and sighed in content resignation. "Anyway, six days. We'll see who the victor is."

With that, he hung the telephone up, leaving me to linger in silence. Yet the voice of Cecil and the cries of Bella ricocheted through my mind, plaguing every part of me. The pain enveloped me, sending trembles throughout my body. How could he do this to her? His satisfaction was sickening.

"This is… far more dire than I thought," my mother said after a moment. She rose to her feet, and paced the living room. "He's given us the time frame, however, and we know that Bella is still alive. At least."

"At least?" I whispered. "Did you hear her? If we don't get to her soon, I'm not sure there will be anything left of her by the time six days is over…"

Emmett clapped his hands once, rubbing them together. "Which is why we need to come up with a game plan. Now."

"He's right," Carlisle said, making his way to the coffee table. "If Cecil is playing a game with us, we need to play it, too."

I swallowed my fear and my hurt, and nodded. Of course we would have to. If it meant saving Bella, of course we would have to.

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_Lovely reviewers, can I request perhaps 20 more reviews before chapter 14 is posted? I've got it mostly written, if that is ANY consolation. I'm currently at 177 reviews, so I would love close to 200 before the next one. If at all possible. hehe.  
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	14. Stranded

_Okay! Here we are! Chapter 14! I am so very sorry it took so long to get up, but things get crazy, as I'm sure you know. Anyway, now that this trimester of school is over, hopefully I can get some more time in to work on this. The whole after effects of Breaking Dawn have worn off, and I'm not done with this fic. So, even though I may not update this one for a while, I promise I will!_

_At any rate, do enjoy!  
_

_**Song: **"Handcuffs" by Brand New  
_

* * *

**"Stranded"**

**BELLA'S PERSPECTIVE**

"Mother…"

"Wake up, please…"

"Do you think she hears us?"

It was a dream.

It had all been a terrible nightmare, and now I was waking up from it. Cecil had not stolen my children, and he hadn't lured me away from my safety. I was lying in my bed in Edward's room, being pushed into consciousness by two eager children.

Lazily, I opened my eyes. Yes, Atticus and Sophie were hovered over me, concern crossing their brows. I recognized the ceiling as the Cullens' house, and the light that shone in from the enormous window, filtered through the grey sky. I was at home.

"Mother, are you okay?" Atticus held my hand firmly, watching me as I slowly sat up in the bed.

"I… I think so," I mumbled. "Are you?"

Sophie and Atticus exchanged brief glances, as if I were missing something. "Yes," Sophie said. "Now that you're here, anyway."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "I've _been_ here. We're at home right now," I looked around the room, Edward's room, trying to convince myself of my denial. "Where is Edward?"

As my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed something was terribly off in this place. True, I was in our bedroom, surrounded by everything familiar, but it was different. Everything—from the walls and carpets to each label on his music collection—seemed dead and worn, grey and lifeless. I looked towards the windows and saw, with a treacherous roll of nauseous fear, the ghostly figures, suspended in the fog, watching.

I was not at home.

Slowly, I looked back at the two children, sad and lonely. For a moment, I searched their faces and willed myself to believe that I was still at home; that the Cullens were not even a call away. However, I was stopped when I noticed how lifeless they looked. Corpses, yet alive. Sophie's smile, usually set in place no matter what was happening, was truly nonexistent; she looked as though she had never smiled once before. And Atticus's eyes, typically a brilliant emerald, were sunken in, paled to a sickly green.

"Where are we?" I asked, though I never heard my voice speak it.

"With Cecil," Sophie said, her eyes cast towards the comforter. "In purgatory."

My heart dropped. How would they find us? How were we going to be saved? With a rocking revelation, I realized we might never be rescued…

"Are you hurt?" I whispered, shaking off the fear. I reached out and stroked their faces, checking their arms. "He hasn't done anything to you, has he?"

Atticus shook his head, and then shrugged. "He kept us in the forest until he… he got you, in these little pits that hunters use to catch animals in," he said. "It was scary, and it hurt…"

Sophie pulled herself closer to me, laying her head on my shoulder. "Is daddy okay? And Jasper and Emmett? I don't want them to think it was their fault…"

"Your father—" My stomach rolled with a faint touch of happiness as I said that—"is searching for you two right now. He's worried sick."

"Does Elizabeth know what happened?" Atticus asked as he pulled himself into my lap, too.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But I'm sure she will."

"Of course she will," Sophie agreed.

We didn't speak or move for a long moment. I pulled them closer, longing for their company and reveling in the fact that they were safe, but we were soon interrupted, thrown out of peace.

Half of me hoped it was Edward that was opening the door. But the other half knew it wasn't.

In the silhouette of the grey hallway, a man stood, leaned against the frame. Tall and lanky, he stood motionless. His hair hung limply around his face, though I couldn't make out that much in the darkness.

Then, the burning smell hit my nostrils, followed shortly by the voice I feared.

"Ah, sleeping beauty has awoken."

This man named Cecil sauntered across the room, stepping from the shadow and towards the light. A knot of dread was curdling in my stomach, sparking fear at the thought of seeing his face. I looked down, concentrating on the faded gold comforter that stared blankly up at me.

I felt him settle his weight on the edge of the bed, and his eyes burned holes in me as he stared. "Bella," he said. "Why won't you look at me?"

I didn't answer, but fixed my gaze on the threads that made the fabric.

"You're making this so very difficult for the both of us," he soothed. His hand, which I saw out of the corner of my eye, made its way to mine that rested on the comforter. He gripped it—cold, but with an undertone of warmth. It was the oddest feeling… "I can be nice about this, or I can be ugly about this."

"Just look at him," Sophie whispered in my ear. "You'll get hurt if you don't…"

Bravely, I lifted my head, but my eyes stayed focused on the blanket. I let my eyes drift up on their own accord as I took in his face.

He was not anyone like I had seen before, or any monster I could have imagined him to be. His cinder black hair feathered around his slender, fair face—much like smoke as it drifts away from the wreckage of a fire. Yet, his features were so far from the demonic, frightening ones I had thought him to possess. His eyes, large and bottomless, burned black through the wisps of his hair, sunken deep in him, outlined by purple shadows. Despite his undeniable beauty, he didn't stir the happiness that Edward did, but rather fear and sorrow.

"See, did that hurt?" Cecil asked, brushing his fingers along my jaw. I wanted to pull away, but I reconsidered—for my safety and for the children's. Slowly, I shook my head. "Good. Now, we have some business to attend to," he stood up, and held his ashy-white hand out to me. "May I escort you?"

I pulled myself out of the bed, shivering in my thin nightgown. I looked around the room, searching for Edward's peacoat, but it was nowhere to be found. _Maybe it's in the living room,_ I thought was we walked down the hallway, Sophie and Atticus close behind me.

The main room, noticeably that of the Cullens, was sunk in a deep, chilling fog. Outside the windows, the same black ghouls hovered; I quickly averted my eyes, afraid. Cecil gripped my hand tighter, sitting me down in the chair facing the window. Surely, he knew I was frightened by them—surely, his intention was to scare me.

Atticus and Sophie sunk to the ground in front of the fireplace, burning brilliantly and emitting a strange heat and scent. Cecil glanced at me, carrying something in his hand, and then at the flame. "You were looking for Edward's coat a moment ago, weren't you?"

Silently, I nodded.

He smirked and tilted his head in the direction of the flames. "Vampire clothing makes for good fire fuel, doesn't it?"

I averted my eyes and pressed myself farther into the couch, absorbing the coldness. A sob escaped my lips, and I quickly covered my mouth to muffle my cries.

"Ah, don't cry," Cecil whispered as he sat down next to me, placing a telephone—of all things—on the coffee table. He reached out and brushed my hair from my face, sending shivers through me. His indifference fell from his face, replaced by one of longing. "So beautiful, Bella… a thorough enjoyment…" Cecil wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him, pressing his face into my neck. "And you're mine now…"

Instinctively, I let out a cry, and tried to shove him away. Instead of being pushed from me, he violently pulled himself closer to me, his hands digging in my back. Gruffly, he whispered against my ear, "You either give in to me, Bella, or a few more people than just you will have to pay…"

"Edward's going to be here," I rasped out, struggling against his restraint. "He loves me, Cecil, and he won't let anyone hurt me again…"

A sharp pain ripped through my scalp, his fingers painfully intertwined in my hair. "There are two rules to this game that you alone have to obey, and they're fairly easy, depending on how submissive you are," his voice was hot and hoarse in my ear. "The first is, give up and give in. It's that easy," His grip tightened in my hair. "And the second rule is, don't talk about Edward. The punishment is severe for that infringement," He released me, throwing me against the couch. "Are we all clear now?"

Shaken by the pain, I nodded, my lip trembling.

"Excellent," he whispered, and reached for the phone, turning it on. He dialed some numbers, to my surprise, and set it down on the tabletop, the speakerphone in use. As I listened to the monotonous ringing, he turned to me, clenching my face in one hand, my forearm in the other. "Don't say a word unless I tell you to. I really do not want to hurt you again, Bella."

"Who are you calling?" I frantically asked. "Edward—?"

His fingers pressed fiercely into my cheekbones, sending the warning pain of a bruise through me. "Did you hear me, Bella? I don't want to hurt you, but if you leave me no choice—"

"Cullen residence; this is Esme."

My heart leapt in joy as I heard her voice, distorted by more than just the standard telephone static.

"Edward, please?" Cecil casually asked.

There was a small intake of breath, and then silence. I thought she had hung up, until I heard the other line being handled, and then… "Yes?"

It was Edward, his voice recognizable even in its apparent distress and pain. Subconsciously, I swore at myself for putting him in this hurt to begin with…

"Edward, please?" Cecil repeated.

"Yes, this is Edward," he said in a rush. "Who is this?"

Cecil glanced at me, a smirk on his face. "Is Bella there, please?"

A beat of silence struck me. "No, Bella is not here."

This demon, this tormentor, held his smile, but it soon spread and then erupted in a laugh that chilled me to my bones. "Of course she's isn't!" He managed between laughs.

"Edward!" I cried, reaching for the phone. Cecil flung me back against the couch, glaring at me though his wretched smile was still in place. I looked past him, my arm futilely extended for the phone. "Please, Edward!"

"Where is she?!" I heard Edward shout right before a sharp pain shivered through my cheek.

Cecil drew himself from me, and picked the phone up, dangling it between his fingers in the hand that wasn't restraining my wrists. "Oh, calm down, Edward," he chuckled. "Honestly, one would think you had lost something you truly care for."

A growl, undoubtedly from Edward, shuddered through the telephone, breaking my heart. I had caused him this pain…

"Don't behave like that," he scolded. He glanced at Sophie and Atticus, wide eyed and hopeful on the ground. "The children can hear you. Now, would you like to hear the rules or are you going to continue overreacting like this?"

"The rules?" It was a question, not an answer.

"Ah, yes, I knew that would be your option," Cecil looked at me, studying my horrified look. "As we don't have name tags, allow me to introduce myself to you. My name is Cecil. Perhaps you've heard of me? I'm sure Elizabeth has spread the gossip."

"Yes, I know who you are," Edward said resolutely. "We all know who you are."

I pulled on Cecil's hand, my eyes pleading. He turned to look at me, pressing the phone into the cushion. "Is something amiss, Bella? Do you want me to hang up the telephone?" He smirked, delightfully twisting me words.

"Please let me talk to Edward," I breathed. His eyes darkened, and I saw Sophie shaking her head quickly out of the corner of my eye, discouraging my words, but I pressed on. "It's all I want. I just want to let him know I'm alright, that I'm not hurt…" I reached hastily for words, and they increased unevenly in volume, tears seeping from my eyes. "I just want to talk to him…"

A cold, hard slap in the face shook me from my shaken speech. Some sound, twisted and chortled, came from me, released by the hurt that stung in my face, my eyes, my chest. Sophie and Atticus cried out from the carpet, but did not move; perhaps they had learned their lesson, as he called it. Cecil studied me, and then laughed again and picked the telephone up. "Bella is having a hard time understanding the rules herself," he said matter-of-factly. "She hasn't even been with me a day and she's already being stained a lovely red with some black and blue to accent her beauty. She's almost unrecognizable; she's taken on such a makeover!"

"Stop hurting her!" Edward cried. "Please, stop touching her…"

However, Edward's words only provoked Cecil. "Why would I do that? She enjoys it so much," Cecil's hand lifted my chin, his lips and inch from mine. "Don't you, Bella? Her favorite is when I do this…" His hand strayed up my back, and twirled my hair in his fingers, a hot breath blown from his mouth. I tried to suppress the whimper, but it found its way out. Though his lips never touched mine, he pulled away satisfied and laughed once more.

Discreetly, he switched the phone from speaker, and stood up from the couch. "Anyway, the rules. You and your little family have six days to find out where I am and steal her and the children back. That sounds simple enough, but rest assured, it isn't. If you fail to do so, Bella and I will make our way home, assuming you've abandoned her…" Cecil said something that I couldn't hear, his back turned to me and his voice low. He paused, and then picked up his speech again, and he made his way back to me. "Of course, Bella and the children have their own set of rules to follow. You wouldn't believe how much she talks about you, Edward! It's always, 'Edward will do this, Edward will do that, Edward loves me!'" He sat next to me, and patted my sore cheek. "Every time she mentions you, it's like a slap in the face," He trilled another laugh again. Cecil suddenly looked pleasantly surprised, and turned to me. "Come, Bella, Edward wants you hear your voice! Cry out for him, love!"

With no regards to my punishment, I began to shout and beg for him, calling his name, praying he heard me. No sooner had I started to plead when I found myself crumpled on the carpet, shaking from the blows Cecil had cast on me. Foreign cries came from my throat, comforted by my two children as they tried to soothe my pain.

I did not hear the rest of what Cecil had to say, nor did I care. The only thought that floated across my mind was that I was not with Edward, and he was not here to save us. Instead, I lay on the ground, coughing and beaten, sobbing hysterics that frightened even me.

Like a candle at the end of its wick, I felt my mind slowing, fading, as I drifted into the inky sea of my subconscious, loved by the loneliness and immersed in the isolation.

--

Whether I collapsed or not, I'm not sure. I very well could have, as I dreamt of Edward.

In my mind's eye, he was a child, beautiful and delicate, younger than our own children. He was crouched at the shore of a lake, his bronze hair glistening in the sun light rather than his skin. His cheeks were flushed brilliantly with life, pink and peach, unlike the pale complexion I know. Presumably Elizabeth had dressed him in blue, short trousers and a shirt styled like that of a sailor, which only reminded me of his youth. Knelt down, he wobbled a little, unacquainted with true balance.

In his hands, however, was a corked green bottle with what appeared to be a rolled up sheet of paper. He was offering it to the lapping waters, hesitant and pleading. Slowly, he would hold it out, and then draw back just an inch, studying the wet sand and the water's foamy edge as he extended the bottle once more. He did this for a few minutes before a man's voice was heard out of my vision.

"Edward? What are you doing?"

I looked up and saw Edward's father trekking across the sandy beach, and gasped to myself. I wasn't looking at Edward Sr., but my own Edward, except for a few discrepancies. His hair was brown, light and marked with blonde in places, tousled yet modest. He had the same strong jaw, the same lanky build, and the same pensive expression.

"Watching the water," he answered, pointing at the waves. I was shocked to find that his voice was so similar to Atticus's…

His father picked him up in his arms, and looked him seriously in the eyes. "We were concerned about where you had gone, Edward. You mustn't leave like that without telling your mother or myself."

Edward looked down, suddenly ashamed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

The father looked at his son, and finally spotted the green bottle. "What is this?"

"I was… I was sending a message in a bottle."

"What does it say?"

"Nothing, father."

"Don't tell lies to me, Edward," his father answered severely. "What does it say?"

A gentle, slender hand slid on Edward Sr.'s shoulder, the hand of Elizabeth. She smiled at them. "If he doesn't want to tell us, he doesn't have to," she ran her fingers through her son's hair. "Would you like help sending it off?"

He nodded, and lowered himself from his father's arms. Elizabeth knelt down, the thick braid of her bronze hair trailing down her back. She touched her son's wrists, watching the water with him. "When you send a bottle into the ocean, you want to be careful not to let it get pulled back by the sand. I think it would be best if we step a little into the water," she led him into the ocean, keeping a tender grip on him. Edward Sr. came close behind and lowered himself on the other side of his son. "The cork must be tight and allow no water to pass through, or it will cause it to sink to the bottom and no one will ever find it. This is the best part, when you actually put it in the water and watch it float off," she put her hand in the water, watching Edward as he submerged half of it. "Let go and see if it will stay above," Tentatively, he did as she instructed. To his delight, it bobbed happily in the shallow current. "There! Now, let us step back and watch."

The family stepped back onto the sand, staring. For a long time, the only sound was the seagulls calling, the water lulling and pulling at the small green bottle. Distantly, people were laughing and talking as the wind blew by them…

And then I was myself again, standing alone at the very same beach. Where everything had been vibrant and warm, the world was painted in tones of grey, dark and pale. In my hand, I held a bottle with a message for Edward cleanly rolled up inside of it. The murky ocean stretched in front of me, disappearing into a forbidding fog. The howling wind burned my ears, chilling not my skin, but my happiness.

I did not know what the letter said or if it really was for Edward. But with each step into the water, fear grew in me. When I put the bottle into the water, it consumed me, rocking me with each movement of the ocean.

Frightened, I ran from the water, only to gracefully fall into the sand. Unable to stand, I watched the bottle float into the ocean, disappearing from sight, and I cried.

A hand gripped my arm, and pulled me up to me feet—

—And I woke up, face to face with a snarling Cecil, his cool breath smelling of rust and ash.

"You have sinned, Bella," he hissed. "and your punishment awaits you."

_Remember: review! I love you all!_

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	15. Body

_I've had this chapter done for quite some time, but I guess I just haven't felt confident enough to post it. But I suppose I'd better, since I just seem to be putting it off. Please do enjoy it. I hope to wrap this story up by the twentieth chapter, perhaps sooner. Reviews would help me know what I'm doing correctly and what I'm not doing._

_**Song: **"Luca" by Brand New. If you don't know who Brand New is, I'm so sorry. They're incredible.  
_

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**"Body"**

**BELLA'S PERSPECTIVE**

I tried my hardest not to tremble too much as his black, hot eyes burned my own, ignited with fury and power. His touch, typically a dead, neutral temperature, burned my skin. Where Jacob's warmth was once comforting, Cecil's was unnerving and painful. I winced at the tightness of his grip, at the hot, cinder smell of his mouth.

"How ought I to enforce what I say, what I tell you not to do and _to_ do?" He seethed. "I find hurting you slightly discomforting, but it is the only way, it seems!"

My words, sapped dry and raw, tumbled past my quivering lips. "What… what did I do?"

Cecil shook my shoulders roughly, and I realized I was still on the floor of the living room, my body aching from the beating I had sustained earlier. "I saw your dream, Bella! Don't deny that dream!"  
"I… I don't… I didn't know what…"

With a flash, his warm fingers curled around my neck in a strangle. Though he didn't cut off my breathing, my bones strained under his strength as he slightly tightened his hold. My own hands rose to my throat, pleading with his to release me. He leaned forward until the feel of his lips were a whisper, curled in a smirk.

"You sent for Edward, dear Bella," he said. "And one of the rules you must abide by is not to speak of him, which also includes not to dream of him, not to communicate with him. And as I also believe I told you that the punishment for this disobedience is not a lovely one."

My eyes widened, blurring and blackening as he began to constrict my throat. "Please, Cecil… I'll do what you say, just don't… don't hurt me…"

"And am I to immediately accept this proclamation?" he asked, trailing his lips to my cheek, my hair, to my ears. "Most likely, you are making rash promises you don't intend to keep so as to save yourself from your punishment. Besides, is your well-being so important to you? Will you mean it more—will you promise more—if I lift your punishment and press it against the children?"

Everything blurred, shocking every nerve ending. "No!" I choked, my heart pounding my throat. "Don't hurt Sophie and Atticus! You can… you can punish me! And I won't do it again…"

"Is that so?" he breathed against me, his voice low and rough. "You will keep yourself under control?"

"Cecil, you have my word…"

His hands, smothering and deadly, lifted from my throat and cradled my face. He pulled his face back to look into my own, studying each feature, draining every meaning from my expression. His thumb traced the tears that I didn't realize were slipping from eyes.

"Where are they? My children?"

A shadow of a smile flickered across his lips, but the desire burnt it away. "Their room. Trust that they are safe, Bella." He stood up slowly, holding my eyes to make sure I wouldn't run away once freed. Numbed by terror, I lay, crumpled, on the carpet, trying to control my urge to sob. Cecil knelt down, and took my hands in his. "You're going to be my princess, Bella," he said, his eyes boring in mine. "And I know you'll enjoy it."

_Because I have to_, I vaguely thought, though I hid it from tracing my readable eyes. Cecil lifted my chin, stroking my cheek with his thumb—his skin was deathly cold and warm once more.

"I'm going to… train you, Bella," he said, his eyes hid under his falling eyelids. "You must learn not to flinch when I touch you, to not look so _fearful_ when you look at me. Edward would touch you, but you weren't frightened by him, were you?"

A silence settled in; he expected me to answer him. I kept my eyes steadily on him—I knew that if I agreed, I would be hurt, punished for talking about him. How would I get around that punishment? Did he allow me to talk about Edward when he brought his name into the conversation? Or was this part of the game…?

"I'm not frightened by you, Cecil," I lied, though I knew that was what he wanted to hear, the right answer, the moment before I said it.

His lips lifted in a smile, pleasantly dark. "You are learning quickly," Cecil said, rough and controlled. He looked past me, but only for a second. "I feel like our intimacy could perhaps be fuller if we went to the bedroom. Don't you agree, Bella?"

I nodded, my chest constricted as it burned with sadness and bubbled with fear. _I have to play the game if I want to get back to Edward…_

Cecil lifted me to my feet, holding my arm as I made my way to the room I knew best than any other in this house. His hand drifted to the small of my back as we went up the stairs and down the hall. He stopped me as I tried to open the door. "A little eager, now are we?"

I blushed, the unease roaring inside of me as he maneuvered me against the wall, my back touching it lightly.

"You were here," he said, his arms tangling around me. "On your wedding night."

My mind flashed with sharp, rich memories.

"Ah, you remember." Cecil moved himself closer to me, his body pressing mine against the wall. "A woman never forgets where the virgin once slept."

With instant recognition, my eyes widened as I realized where he was heading with this, what he was going to do with me…

"Don't be scared," Cecil whispered, burying his face in my hair, trapping me against him. "You promised me you weren't frightened."

"Cecil, this isn't right…" I choked out. "I'm… I'm married, I belong to—"

"To me, yes, Bella," Cecil overrode me, but where his movements and touch had been tolerant and controlled, he was now rough and demanding.

Cecil drew back and held my forearms out in front of me. I looked down, considering escape, but my eyes stopped when I realized what he was showing me.

Two black silver manacles, locked around my wrists.

Frantically, I pulled back, touching them. The metal was cold and firm against me; they were molded to fit my small wrists. The only way I could get them off was to cut off my hand. At this thought, I lifted my left hand and felt my heart crack when I saw that my ring was—

"Looking for this, are you?" Cecil sang. I looked up from my hands and saw him holding a necklace up as it dangled from his throat. At the end of it hung my wedding ring along with the peculiar key Sophie had worn around her neck and another smaller black key. My heart sank and I dropped my eyes to the floor.

"No, Bella, look," he demanded, lifting my wrists. He turned my arm to where the underside faced up, and I noticed the small keyhole for the first time. Cecil lifted my wrist up to his neck, where he held the black key against it. The manacles and the key matched in metal, in smoothness. "The only way to be released is by using this key. However, it must be I that do it," he said, and his smiled curled like burning paper. "Neither Edward nor yourself. If he kills me, you'll never be free from these cuffs. They bind you to me, Bella, and I to you. They chain you from ever returning back to your world."

It wasn't until the silence bit me and his hot breath stung my face that I recognized the tears that were pooling in the corners of my eyes. I wanted to wipe them away, to break the binding gaze of Cecil, but his hands gripped my wrists tighter than the metal themselves. I felt the tears fall over my eyelashes, and I felt ashamed and violated.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Cecil exhaled sharply, a breathy, unmoving jolt of laughter. Instead, his eyebrows pushed together, as if I'd asked him an absurd, fantastical question.

"Do you not realize how desirable you are, Bella? No, you must not," he mused. "Victoria and James weren't motivated primarily by bloodlust and mere challenge when it came to their hunt for you. It was rather _my_ hunt, and I used your blood and body as a payment if they brought you to me."

"What? No, that's not it…"

I winced as Cecil pressed me harder into the wall. "_Yes_, it is, Bella. I sent them to kill you, to gain your soul without sending you through purgatory as part of your conditioning. And when they failed, when you were not dead and in _my_ arms, I decided to see to it myself."

"But… they're vampires…Victoria and James were…" My head spun dangerously.

"And as an archangel of Hell, Bella, they are under my orders. The children of the night, don't you know?"

"But the Cullens…?" I wanted to slap my mouth the moment I mentioned them, but he only tightened his eyes, rage flaring in the depths.

"The _Cullens_," he spat. "Have golden eyes. They denounce their nature. They reject us."

I felt my mind whirl again with what he had told me, and I hoped it wasn't true. I prayed and begged that it wasn't. This whole war all boiled down to one true battle: Edward's love versus Cecil's coveting jealously. Did the Cullens know this, yet decided not to tell me? Did Edward know? Had he heard it in Laurent's or Victoria's or James's head? Cecil said he had offered my body to the vampires if they left my soul to him… did that mean…?

"My body is left behind?"

Cecil tilted his head just a bit, his eyes still in far thought. "Pardon?" His eyes came back to me. "Oh. Yes. Well, I'm just about to see to that. You have a separate shell here. If you are ever to return to Earth—which you really should not count on—you'll be back in your body, the same one you've always known."

"And what is it now? Is it missing?"

I felt my eyes search his face desperately for any sign of his thoughts, but beneath the pale mask was burning lust. Cecil leaned forward, his lips brushing mine.

"Bella, you're dead to Edward."

And his mouth fell on mine, crushing and flaming, and I soon found myself slipping away like I had once done in a forest somewhere… I couldn't quite recall it, I didn't want to remember anything.

It seemed, though, that this man with the dark eyes and feathery hair was a desperate drowning man—clutching, digging.

The feverish long haired boy was rough, thrusting and hurting me.

And then there was the bronze-haired man who I couldn't remember a thing about…

**EDWARD'S PERSPECTIVE**

_The sky is grey,_ I heard my mind whispering. _The trees are brown. The leaves are black._

It felt like if I said this over enough times, I could create some other world of my own. One where she would walk through the door any minute, a towel wrapped around her delicate body, unsuspecting of my presence, and blush fervently. Or maybe she'd be chased in here by Sophie or Atticus, laughing and screaming with delight. But my favorite was when she tiptoed in when the others were distracted and busy, move the curtains of the window and pull them around the two of us, and fall against me with the sensuality of a petal—

I stopped myself. If I longed too much for her, I knew I'd fall apart.

Instead, I was sitting with my knees drawn against my chest, alone, watching the mist appear and disappear behind the same golden and black curtains of my window that she adored. I could hear the goings of my family, the fret and determination that tainted each mind, though I didn't want to think too much about her… disappearance. At least not now. To me, talking about her absence only seemed like talking about her arrival from Charlie's or her awakening after night. Temporary.

I pressed her blanket in my face more fiercely, inhaling her scent, begging for more than this torture.

How long had I been moping instead of utilizing this precious time? I had but six days to rescue her and here I sat, squandering it. Bella hadn't hesitated when I'd taken flight to Italy. Why should I? Besides, this was much direr. It wasn't I that was in danger, but Bella. And if I am damned for eternity, shouldn't it be with her, as wretched as that sounds?

I cursed myself for agreeing to trap her in the night with me. She was so beautiful, an angel that should be resting in Heaven, not...

My heart bit me as I considered the words I ought to use to complete this sentence. _Wherever she was._

Blindly, I stood up, having subconsciously decided to go outside, in the woods where my throat didn't burn from freesia, but was neutralized from the dank wood and dead leaves. Maybe if I cleared my mind of this haze, I could plan alongside my family without becoming too distraught, without collapsing within.

The house was silent except for the hushed, intense murmurings and thoughts from the first floor. As I passed the open living room, they glanced up only momentarily, long enough to understand that I wouldn't be joining them. My mother smiled with a promise and continued listening to Carlisle.

Whether it was cold or not outside, I couldn't tell. It looked wet, so it must have been. I thought back to what Bella looked like in the rain, with soft anger or a tentative blush. My eyes fell shut for a moment as I saw her face…

Ah, no. Shaking it from my mind, I walked forward, was _drawn _toward, the area I had smelt and heard her for the last time.

An instinctual knowledge, heady and unprovoked, seared my mind

Something had to have been left. Cecil wanted things to be, at the very least, a little guiding, a little easy. He thought like James: lure the kill and strike with torturous blows.

And that was the moment I saw it.

A white gown in the black brush tucked a few paces into the trees.

I felt my tough, unmovable skin crawl as I walked forward, frightened into motion. Had my heart been able to pound, it would have hammered my chest, and blood would have rose to the surface in fear. My mouth would have dried up and my flesh would have gone clammy.

There at my feet was Bella, tangled in her white gown, wrapped in my grey peacoat.

Without hesitation, I collapsed, leaning forward to look at her, to touch her.

Scarlet blood caked the corners of her lips and a black bruise stained her neck. The tangled brown hair clung to her abnormally pale cheeks, with the leaves and dirt knotted and matted in. Her eyes were closed as peacefully as they were when she slept, though her chest did not rise and fall with her reassuring breaths. I lifted her hands, which were wrapped around her stomach, which were vaguely clutching her sides, and held them in my own.

Her fingers hung emptily in mine, though the diamond glinted in the rain, dirt tucked in the crevices. Something caught my eye, and I glanced at her other hand; in it was a peculiar green glass bottle with a piece of paper rolled up inside of it. Mindlessly, I pulled it from her curled fingers, and emptied it with shaking hands. I unfurled it, adjusting my unfocused eyes on the heart wrenchingly familiar writing.

_He h[]s me in p[ ]tory, Edw[]rd. I'm w[ ]ng. Keep m[ ] safe. Find [ ]phie an[] [ ]ticus, t[ ]. I [ ]e you. Bel[ ]._

Blankly, I tried to piece the missing the letters back in their places, which were smudged out or faded entirely. The edges of the parchment were torn and singed, frayed out like fabric in some places. The ink looked like it had been submerged underwater in this bottle, running and nearly illegible. Though I couldn't read it entirely, couldn't relish the familiarity of something of hers, I felt a sense of… _comfort_ in seeing her handwriting, some evidence that, despite this body, she was still—

The wrecking ball knowledge shattered me in that quick moment.

This was Bella's body. Not _Bella,_ but the vacated corpse of the girl I loved.

Lightly, I touched her cheek and felt horror rise in me—she was that unnaturally cold temperature death was chilled at. I gazed at her, inches from her face, watching for the movement of blood, the twitch of a muscle, the flutter of a lash, but nothing happened. The rain beat her, soaking her skin and making her feel too soft.

The scent of her blood repulsed me for the first time—the coldness of it made her smell almost sour, sickening.

I'm unable to pinpoint precisely how long I sat next to her before I lifted her in my arms, cradling her, holding her against my chest—I cringed as I realized she was much colder than I was. Like so many countless nights, her face was resting against my shoulder, though the limpness of her body bled dry the clinging dream of her imaginary humanity. I rocked back and forth, pressing her for life, as though moving her body for her would bring her back to me…

The boy, the human, in me wanted to vomit, to sob, to bellow out my sheer pain, unmasked and vicious for the first time.

Strange, guttural sounds filled the small clearing of trees. With chagrin, I realized it was _me_, my sorrow exorcising itself. Her name tumbled, meaninglessly, from my mouth, broken and mangled. But this soft, dead creature was not Isabella.

No, Bella—_my _Bella, the one that blushed and laughed and scowled and did a million other beautiful things—was far off, somewhere else, somewhere with Cecil…

My body shook with my howling as I felt every part of me, distant and near, slowly dismantling, every truth I knew collapsing, every piece of me melting and dissolving away into nothing…

Arms and hands, strong and comforting, reined me in before I slipped too far into the black. I heard my father whispering, "Son… it's…" but he never finished his sentences or thoughts, too uncertain and scared to make meaning by the time they fell from his lips.

A part of me, as strong as the blood lusting monster I hated, was angry, _infuriated_, that these people, my family, were trying to pry the body of the girl I loved from my arms. As if I was to let go of her! If her heart wasn't with me, at least allow me to hold what was left of her…

I held her closer, pitifully crying out as Carlisle murmured something to Rosalie and Esme, sending them off. The sound of their light running disappeared past me into the trees.

"Edward," Carlisle said, stern and serious. "What happened?"

"I… I don't know… I found her like this…" I gasped. "Can you… can you save her?"

Carlisle, who was kneeling in front of me, opened his mouth slightly, the ghost of a reassurance, however futile it may be, lingered somewhere in his thoughts.

"They're over here!" Rosalie cried from a distance.

"Who?" I choked, venom slurring my speech.

My mother placed a warm hand on my shoulder. "Sophie and Atticus…"

Disbelieving, I looked up from the pale face I adored, and saw them, my children, being carried through the dark trees by Rosalie and Esme. Through the misting rain, I could see the mud that had tangled and caked Sophie's hair and the scrapes on Atticus's face and arms. They shivered, and then their eyes, terrified and secure, were illuminated the moment ours touched.

"Daddy!" Sophie cried, struggling to free herself from Esme.

Warily, Atticus eyed Bella, terror etching his delicate features.

My sister and my second mother set the two children near me, and they clung to my arms, touching Bella's face, lovingly and gently, as though soothing her back into consciousness.

"She's okay," Atticus said, though I heard the fear and pain in his small voice. "She isn't dead."

But the man that was apt to have hope in those words was gone, vacated by biting reason, standing strong in his pain with the dead face of a woman lolling lifelessly against his chest.

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_**Current** number of reviews: 217_

_Reviews I'd like **before** I update again: 230_

_S'il vous plaît? Je t'aime toujours :)  
_


	16. Blood Brothers

_omgomgomg. Forgive me for the delay? I've been trying to get this chapter right, and it has taken a bit longer than I expected. I don't want to submit a half-good chapter. That's a bad thing to do to such good, faithful readers such as yourselves._

_A few notes: I know that Jacob's narrative isn't up to par with Stephenie Meyer's, but it is so hard to achieve that level of conversational writing when I'm definitely not that kind of writer at all. I guess I need to work on my versatility? Also, the italics in the middle of the chapter is a memory. I believe I made that obvious in the actual writing, but for anyone who needs a boost... :)  
_

_Anyway. Let's get the show on the road._

_**Music: **I'm pretty sure I wrote this listening to the Brand New album, "The Devil & God Are Raging Inside Me". The title is even appropriate!  
_

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**"Blood Brothers"**

**JACOB'S PERSPECTIVE**

Somehow, the order of things never seemed to change for me. Like some crazy formula used in a math class.

There are the constant things in it, like I would always love Bella. And past that equal sign of the equation, there was, inevitably, the same answer: she will never love me because she will always have someone else to love.

I never expected, though, that the person _who_ she loved would change. In my eyes (and Bella's, and probably everyone else), it was always going to be Edward the Unconquered. No one dared contest his spot in Bella's beating heart. And if someone did—some idiot new to town would only do such a thing—he would swiftly be silenced, backing away from Bella like she was a leper or an untouchable goddess. As unfair as it seemed, no one argued with the fact that this arrogant, manipulative, (not to mention) selfish prick got a girl like Bella.

She was loved and taken care of, and anyone that disagreed with that didn't really have a chance to play the game fairly. Edward didn't—he wouldn't, _couldn't_—allow it.

Something seemed wrong about the whole thing, but no one tried to go against it.

Well, until Cecil came along.

Sitting on the couch, I turned these thoughts over and over in my head . Here I was, the loser to Edward's game, now taking orders from the defeater of that same game, who was also upstairs, in bed, with the girl I loved and coveted.

Was I never going to get _my way_? My eyes snapped shut at this thought.

Against my eyelids, I saw Cecil's face and I heard what he had said so many times when I made this point to him. "Isn't her virginity of any value to you?"

Well, sure, I guess. But it didn't really make a difference because, in my eyes, that wasn't the Jacob Black I _am _that did that. It was Cecil's Jacob. I was the pawn required to check the queen. And who honors the chess pieces, anyway?

I sighed heavily and threw my head back against the couch.

"Jacob, you think too much. Talk to me."

The sound of Cecil's voice used to make me edgy, panicked almost. But over time—and maybe being trapped in purgatory had something to do with it—my reaction and downright fear of him seemed to wane. I looked over my shoulder and saw Cecil stalking towards me, smiling darkly.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, boss."

He sat next to me, though his eyes never left my face. "Of course you do. It's right on the tip of your tongue. I can tell."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Is this about Bella?"

"It would be quite a different world if it wasn't."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cecil soundlessly laugh, standing, though not walking away. "Jealous, are we?"

I looked up at him, jolted by the expression he wore. Slowly, I shook my head.

"I don't see how you expect me to believe otherwise," Cecil began in a clipped tone, walking away from me. "Because from my point of view, you, Jacob, are a very envious boy. I see it in the way you talk about Bella. When you even _say her name_, it's like you're dabbling with your favorite drug. The memories alone elicit more than just love for her. I believe you forget that I've been watching you for a long time."

I felt my face flush, though I couldn't tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. He was almost as bad as the bloodsucker was about getting into my head.

"I'd hate to call you useless, Jacob. That's unfair to say. After all, you _did_ get the first taste." He was behind me now, one of his hands pressed hard against my cheek, his palm digging into the bones, his fingers resting right by my nose. "But can you smell her on me?" I could, and I hated him for it. "Yes, you mined her, and Edward appraised her, but I'm refining her into the beautiful jewel she is."

Fury burned my throat. "Is that what she is to you, Cecil? Something to make you look pretty?"

I regretted what I'd said the moment I said it. With fierce strength, he pulled me to my feet and shoved me backwards into the coffee table. He laughed as I stumbled and fell into it, splitting the wood. "You speak so bravely! Are you upset that it isn't _your_ name she moans? Are you sad that she agreed to _me_, and not _you_?"

He towered over me, having kicked the table out of the way. I shook my head, trying to side sweep the fear. "Well, don't think you're something special. I'm sure Edward's been there and done that."

It didn't surprise me when I was suddenly on my feet, Cecil's gaunt face inches from my own. "Ah, tricky point, wolf. But it seems as though one thing he couldn't do was defend his title. You couldn't even get as far as claiming one."

"I was her first."

Cecil scoffed. "Only because I gave you the power to do it! You are so terribly weak on your own, Jacob, and you don't even realize it. I'd go as far to say you're powerless. Though I imagine that is the subservient werewolf shining through in you. It's really rather convenient. You help me get so much done around the house."

I swallowed and tried to pull away from his iron grasp. No luck. "You might want to start focusing on things like keeping those leeches from getting in here. I might not like the guy, but I know Edward won't go down without a fight."

"Ah, yes, I'm sure," he said, musing to himself as he walked in a circle around me. "Though I wonder… no, certainly not…"

"Cut the crap, Cecil, and just say it."

Cecil took a step back from me, mocking me with a horrified face, which easily fell back into a casual, unworried smirk. "Your loyalty worries me, Jacob. I'm beginning to question whether it lies with me, or with Edward."

I felt myself enter survival mode, my body straightening to where I now dwarfed him. "Seriously? After everything I've done for you?!"

Cecil just looked up at me, the smile still in place. "Now, now. Calm yourself before you wake the lady."

With my jaw clenched and my fingers shaking, I glared at him, daring him to speak.

"I've broken my own rule about talking about Edward, and I apologize for that," Cecil turned from me and sat himself down on the couch. "But something must give if we are to move forward, and I believe that now is the time for me to introduce your next, and possibly final, endowment."

Every part of me told me to not listen to what he was saying, but I couldn't pull myself from his words. It was like when the Alpha spoke to the pack. We didn't have a choice. _I _didn't have a choice.

Knowing I was listening, he continued. "You see, I'm feeling… _threatened_, I should say, by Edward. I don't believe that's my weakness so much as it is common for a man to feel about a woman, especially when the possibility, however slight it may be, exists that she could be snatched from me. And, Jacob, I don't want that."

I could see exactly where he was heading with this, and I didn't like it. Something ripped through me, something telling me that it was a terrible idea to kill Edward. My mind, vivid with memories, dredged up when the pack teamed up with those vamps, despite the treaty and our differences (well, really just Edward and me). And, even though I hated to admit it to myself, a part of me preferred that Bella be with Edward rather than Cecil. Given the circumstances, he was the better choice for her. Cecil was… evil, just wholesome hate. Impatiently, and with a touch of hysteria, I cut him off. "So just kill the guy yourself."

Cecil sat on the couch, reclined, his arms stretched out along the back of it. "No, no. That won't work."

"Well, why not?"

He took a deep breath and his brow drew together in distaste. "I think it would be easier for me to tell you _my _story—or, rather, _Edward_ and mine's story."

Vaguely, I felt my head jerk and my eyes widen.

"In order to go to Heaven or Hell, one must die, correct?" I nodded, listening to him. "And, unlike Edward, I did die. I suppose you could say he died as well, but his soul remained in his body, whereas mine fled and I died in the conventional way. When I was seventeen years old, I suffered from the same disease as Edward." Cecil tilted his head, the smile long gone, and pursed his lips in thought. "In fact, I would go as far as saying that I was the one that infected Edward Masen in 1918."

"What?"

I was at a loss when I realized that the voice that had just spoken wasn't mine, nor was it Cecil's. And, apparently, Cecil was thrown off guard, too, when the soft, tired voice of a girl filtered through the living room, only to be traced back to the fragile form of Bella.

Smooth operator through and through, Cecil picked himself up from the couch and sauntered to her, probably smiling despite his shock. "Ah, Bella. You're awake." I felt my gut wrench when he touched her cheek, brushing her hair off of her shoulder. "It looks as though you have come around just in time for a little story." He took her small hand, and began to lead her back to the white couch. "Won't you join Jacob and me?"

I didn't realize what it would do to me when Bella saw me for the first time since… well, since the forest. If Bella had been her normal self and not this brainwashed, watered down version of herself, she would have scowled at me, maybe even said something to me. Instead, she was like a ghost—she was so thin, so pale, and so sickly. Recognition passed the wide expanse of her eyes, but nothing else really registered. Cecil was right: her body and mind would indeed suffer while she was in purgatory.

"What's going on, Cecil?" Bella asked the moment he seated her. "You're talking about… about something that doesn't make sense."

"Of course it doesn't, love," he crooned; she shivered. "But it will, very soon."In my human life, I was Cecil Rieux of Chicago. I was born in June of 1901 to one Dr. Bernard Rieux and his wife, Charlotte. I lived in fair prosperity, attended a private school with the intentions of going to Princeton University for a career in justice. My mother and father were part of an exclusive circle of friends consisting of three or four couples—however, only one was truly important, and they were Edward the Senior and Elizabeth Masen.

"Naturally, a friendship between myself and a bronze-haired, green-eyed boy came about. We went to the same school, attended the same church, walked the same streets. I don't believe I can recall a time when it _wasn't_ Cecil and Edward."

"You and Edward…?"

Cecil looked at Bella, and smiled patiently. "Please, don't interrupt." He cleared his throat and looked away from her. "Yes, the Edward we all know and love was once my friend. All through our youth, and even when we were on the cusp of manhood, we were brothers—and I believe it is fair to say now that while it wasn't by blood at first, it was soon to be."

He paused, his mouth open in thought as he tried to think of what next to say. Even though he hadn't said it, I felt my mind reeling at the prospect of what he was about to go on with.

"You see, blood brotherhood is very binding act. People fail to realize that, and that isn't really their folly—most never acquire immortality of any kind, at least not in the degree Edward and I have. The ironic thing about it is that when blood matters the least—when your body no longer needs that crimson fluid for support—it begins to matter the most, at least in a figurative sense.

"When Edward and I were seventeen years old, we read a novel about a boy named Tom Sawyer and his friend, Huckleberry Finn, who bound themselves by blood. Though the wordsmith that created them treated the myth lightly, _we_ didn't. _We_ saw the bond between the two boys that, in all probability, would remain together their whole lives.

"Actually," Cecil sighed. "It would be so much easier if I shared this memory with you as I recall it…" he snatched Bella's hand and leaned forward for mine, which I pulled back out of reaction. "Come now, Jacob. I'm not going to hurt you…"

His long, pale hand was extended in front of me, as though he were offering me something that I couldn't see. Reluctantly, I put my dark palm against his, and my sense of consciousness in that time faded away and I was suddenly thrown back into the early nineteen hundreds, caught up in a cool autumn night…

_Replacing the open, white living room was a small, cramped den set in some high floor level of some house. The walls were smothered by bookshelves, thick with fat volumes and journals, leather-bound and expensive. A tall, lean window was shrouded by a red curtain, where the full moon was trying, in vain, to cut through. No sounds from below could be heard—only the whisper of the candle on the wide desk and the silent thoughts of two young men, sitting behind the desk together, facing one another._

_"When is your father due, Cecil?"_

_The dim light illuminated the face of the speaker—young, though accented with the coming looks of a man. His reddish-gold hair was combed neatly to the side, though the smoothness of it was coming undone, allowing the natural untidiness of it to come through. The flicker of the candle caught the facets of his eyes like a gemstone—a newly discovered emerald, probing the face of his friend for answers._

_"Not for another hour or two. Mother is already asleep, as well."_

_The other boy, having spoken, pulled himself from the darkness. He was holding something in a black leather sheath, moving it from hand to hand as though it were a dead reptile—cautiously, yet with daunting curiosity. Through his black, feathered hair, even darker eyes studied the hidden knife. Abruptly, his hands stopped moving, and he gazed at it for a long moment before drawing the blade from its casing. The harsh metal glinted dangerously in the dark, and the boy opposite him widened his eyes in surprise._

_"N-now?"_

_The black haired boy looked up, a challenge in his eyes. "When else did you want to do this? We met for this specific reason."_

_Taken aback, Edward swallowed, his disbelieving green eyes contracted with the effort to believe. "I suppose you're right. I…well, I just—I mean to say—"_

_"Out with it, Edward."_

_"I've never done anything like this before," he whispered, fright tinting his voice. "That's all."_

_"Nor have I," Cecil said, holding the knife inches from his face, studying his reflection before he set it on the desk. He sighed, lifted his shirt's long sleeve, and exposed the smooth under skin of his forearm. "Your arm is required as well, friend."_

_Edward exhaled sharply, and though he made to move like he was to stand up and leave the room, he pulled himself forward in the chair and held out his arm as well, lying it across the desk. The light of the candle fell across his arm, highlighting the swelling veins and shifting muscles._

_"I don't know precisely how to go about doing something like this; I don't believe there is anything we have to say, but we only have to do it…" Cecil mused as he lifted the knife over his arm. "A small cut below the bend of out elbow ought to work. I think if we cut down our arms," Lightly, he traced the length of his forearm with the tip of the knife, "we would open a vein and suffer more blood loss than we intend to." He hesitated at the crease of his arm, the blade just push away from breaking the flesh. "Would you like to go first, soldier?"_

_Even in the darkness of the office, the flit of a smirk was visible across Edward's mouth. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded. "I suppose so."_

_Cecil made to hand the knife to Edward's outstretched palm, but stopped short. "I'm going to make your incision, and you can make mine."_

_Edward balked, but agreed. "That would be fair."_

_The room suddenly melted away, leaving only the candle, the black haired boy, the green eyed boy, and the knife in the dark. Cecil slowly moved toward Edward, his eyes watching his face, while Edward held his arm down with his other hand, his sight intent on his shivering forearm._

_"Prepared?" Cecil rasped as the cold knife touched the skin._

_"Count for me," he choked. "On three, go."_

_"Okay," he said, tightening his mouth. "One…" _

_Edward exhaled. "Two…"_

_"And, three…"_

_Cringing, he tried his hardest not to pull back from the steel, to keep his composure as the sharp end dug shallowly into his arm. Blood that shone red pushed past the knife, covering the surrounding white skin. A gagging noise came from Edward as he watched the blade withdraw, caked with his blood._

_Cecil swallowed, trying to control his sudden fascination, and hastily held the knife out to the struck Edward. "Come, man. Cut me."_

_Edward looked up from his arm, his eyes wide in disbelief. He took the knife and, trying to ignore the hot blood pooling on his own arm, he glared down at Cecil's open flesh. "Would you for me to count?" he asked, bitterness tingeing his tone._

_"No."_

_He held the knife, and though he was inwardly interested by the gleam it created and the reflection he saw in it of his terrorized face, he pressed the knife against Cecil's arm just as he had had done to him, and quickly pressed it down, the merciless soldier shining through._

_Cecil's eyes closed reflexively, both in pain and in pleasure. He would have smiled at the way Edward needlessly pushed the knife into his arm, as though he was somehow avenging all the times Cecil had treated him unfairly, walked over him._

_"Now, we have to mix our blood."_

_Awkwardly, the two boys moved their arms, trying to find a way to connect their wounds and to keep their blood from dripping off of their elbows and onto the leather desk. Cecil grabbed Edward's forearm and directed it toward his own, and their arms intertwined, the gashes pressed against the other as the elbows hooked together._

_The smell of rust overcame the room—Cecil's laughter swelled as a panicked Edward tried to extract himself from his brother—and the overwhelming feeling of unwanted permanence smothered the flame, casting out the shadows, and tailored the scene to that of--_

--the Cullens' living room took over, creating a feeling of reverse claustrophobia. I opened my eyes, surprised to find that I had had them pressed shut since whenever it was Cecil had told the tale.

At the thought of Cecil, I remembered our hands were touching, and I jerked mine away, disgusted and frightened and loathing. Something like rage burned through me, and had I not been in purgatory, I'm sure I'd have phased.

Or maybe it wasn't the plane of existence I was in, but rather the look on Bella's face as she resurfaced from Cecil's memory. Pain twisted her already contorted features, and she looked like she was drowning, suffocating. She was breathing like she would never be able to get enough air, like she would never be the same again.

"No…" she whispered, tears in her eyes. Cecil turned his head to her, the bliss of his memory floating away. "No… no, that's not true, that can't be… that didn't happen, no no no…"

Cecil grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her up from the couch and closer to his face. Her hair was a mess, a flurry around her confused, beautiful face which was blank with horror. Her arms, with the black manacles I had helped lock on, were raised in her defense, her fingers languidly wrapped around his forearms. Defiantly, she shook her head.

"Yes, Bella. All of that happened. It is all true."

"But, Edward never said anything about it…" she spluttered, "he doesn't even _know_ who you are…!"

In a flash, Cecil released the grip of one hand and slapped her hard across the face. She let out a shriek and collapsed against him, begging for mercy, apologizing like it was all she was worthy to do.

I felt angry. More than that, I felt sick.

Cecil pulled her against his chest, his arm around her waist and one hand tangled in her hair. "Now, Jacob, perhaps you understand why _I _can't carry out my own will concerning him."

I shook my head. Something was very, very obvious, and I was still missing it. As usual.

He sneered at me, and pulled Bella away from himself. She raised her arms to defend herself again, but he spoke as soothingly as he could. "Bella, please. Go upstairs to your room and wait for me. I need to talk to Jacob."

"Yes… yes, okay," she whimpered, trying to entangle herself from him. "I'll go… just, please... don't hurt me..."

Cecil released her and watched as she stood up, hunched over. "I won't as long as you do what I ask."

She walked away from him, looking over her shoulder at me as though she was scared of me, too. In all likelihood, she probably was. I tried to smile at her, to comfort her, but she just scurried off, disappearing up the staircase.

I hadn't notice Cecil stand and make his way to me. When I lost sight of Bella, I realized he was inches from my face, his hand—the one attached to the arm that bore the scar—gripping my shoulder. His eyes burned black.

"Though we no longer bleed blood, Edward and I are still connected in a very basic way. Because of this bond, nature doesn't allow me to destroy him without destroying myself. We are brothers, one and the same."

"So? Maybe—"

Cecil tightened his vice grip on me, and I felt a jolt of oncoming pain. "Would you like for me to make it crystal clear, you dumb dog? Would you like for me to define your mission, your sole reason for existing?"

Fury swelled my throat shut, so I nodded.

"You are going to kill Edward because I cannot. You are going to do that even if it costs _you_ your life—and hopefully, it will."

Again, I nodded.

"Now, go." Cecil released me with a shove. "Use that key I gave you to get back to his world."

I lifted my hand and felt the cold, glass key pressed against my chest. Slowly, numbly, I turned and made my way to the front door. The world passed by me as the typical tingling of passing from plane to plane overtook me. With one hand on the doorknob and the other on the key, I felt the last thread holding me there preparing to snap, only to be subdued by Cecil's disembodied voice.

"And if you can manage to kill the kids as well, I'll make your death a little less painful."

It was then that I decided what I was going to do, and it wasn't what Cecil wanted me to do.

* * *

_Does anyone have a guess as to what that specific deed is? Sorry about the cliffhanger! The story is about to pick up...  
_

_Read and review, please. It makes me write a whole lot faster if I have constructive criticism.  
_


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